


The Miseducation of Bucky Barnes

by bobledufromage



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkwardness galore, Barista Steve, Canon-Typical Violence, Ex-Soldier Bucky Barnes, F/M, First Stucky fic, I'm Still Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mention of Death, Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Mentions of Tony Stark, Nat is a good bro, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Proceed with caution, Slow Burn, Steve and Bucky have some self-esteem issues, Tony Stark has a robot fetish, Will tag more as I write more - Freeform, after ten chapters, art classes, be kind, because i'm a sucker for coffee shop aus, bucky has anxiety, but not graphic AT ALL, but not winter soldier, chapter 14 is quite angsty, coffee shop AU, ish, just a metal arm, just started writing, mention of illnesses and cancer, mention of survivors' guilt, ptsd warning, sorry - Freeform, stucky au, suppose I should add it in now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:11:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobledufromage/pseuds/bobledufromage
Summary: Uh. Crap. Don't really know how to explain this one.Steve and Bucky are a really cute couple and there's a lot of love.Based on the prompt: We’re in the same art class and I’m awesome, but you’re not and you’re failing and you need help so I guess I’ll tutor you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's been a while since I've posted anything so I thought I'd give it a try. This is my first stucky fic, so be gentle with me please (I'm sure there's a sex joke there somewhere). It's also my first multi-chapter fic. Not promising I'll update it regularly, but I will try my hardest to.
> 
> Kudos and feedback are my lifeblood, so please keep me sustained.
> 
> Thanks, and enjoy!

Bucky sighed and looked at the blank canvas in disgust. He honestly didn’t know what he was thinking, taking this night class. He sucked at anything art related. The colours never blended, his shapes were always wonky and his still life pieces were abysmal. It had been Natasha’s idea, something to take his mind off of everything that had happened. She had agreed to come with him and now sat on his left, drawing with the same militant concentration she applied to everything. To be fair, his frustration was definitely keeping his focus. They were meant to be drawing the basket of fruit in the centre of the room. Fifteen or so other people were surrounding it, their hands moving surely on the canvases in front of them, bringing their art to life. Bucky bit his lip and started to work.

After ten more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to draw a banana, Bucky threw his paintbrush down in frustration. He glanced around the room self consciously, sure his frustration was obvious to everyone. To his surprise, no one was paying him any attention. Bucky started looking more closely at the people in the room. A woman with bright red lipstick, laugh lines and a resting bitch face to rival even his sat opposite him. Her eyes flicked to him, feeling him watching her. He glanced away quickly, eyes landing on the man sitting next to her, drawing intently. He did pull Bucky’s attention for more than a few seconds. He was beautiful. His eyes looked like daylight and why was drawing so difficult? He wanted to draw the guy, his cute freckles, his pink lips, pulled between his teeth in concentration. The guy was tiny, but surprisingly muscular, one arm raised to his all-American blonde hair, fingers running through it, sticking it up and leaving streaks of paint through it. He was goddamn gorgeous.

He felt an elbow in his ribs and jumped. Glaring to the left, he spotted the amused look on his best friend’s face. With horror, he realised he’d been staring for way too long at the literal angel in front of him. Bucky nervously swallowed and returned to his work. Not long after he’d started again, the teacher told them to put their art supplies away and to go home. Bucky blinked. That last half went a lot quicker. Then he blanched. Hot Guy’s seat was right next to the door. Which mean Bucky would have to pass him. Shit. Trying (and failing) to be casual, he slung an arm around Natasha, and ushered her quickly through the door, avoiding eye contact with Hot Guy. He could feel her eyes on him, and knew she was grinning. He silently urged her to not say anything, but of course it was useless.

“Peggy?” He heard in an all too familiar voice and groaned internally. Of course Nat would want to stop and chat with someone when he was literally dying. He turned reluctantly to see who she was talking to and froze. The woman he made awkward eye contact with earlier looked up at the same time as Hot Guy. 

Peggy broke out into a disbelieving smile, “Natasha?” Her voice was light, with a clear British accent. She advanced towards them and brought Nat into a hug, “I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”  
Nat grinned and shrugged, “oh you know, same old, same old. Putting up with this idiot on a daily basis is a full time job.” With that, she gestured at Bucky. His face heated up in a brilliant blush, almost as bright as Peggy’s lipstick. He heard a snort and looked back up to see Hot Guy’s face twist into a smile.

“Oh, sorry, how rude of me. This is Steve. Steve, Natasha is an old friend. Steve is my partner in crime and best friend.” Peggy smiled, pulling Steve forward. A blush tinted his cheeks, blotchy and oh so beautiful. Bucky couldn’t help but stare.  
“This is James, my roommate.” Natasha said, “he’s very shy.” Bucky glared at her and shook Steve’s offered hand, then Peggy’s. He tried for a smile but was sure it came out more like a grimace, judging by the faintly concerned looks on their faces.

“Hi” he croaked, mentally face palming himself. He was usually a lot smoother than this. He reflexively tightened his left hand, feeling the plates shifting under his glove, the faint whirring noise deafening. He knew no one but him could hear it, but he hated new people knowing. They always treated him differently, giving him sympathetic looks. He didn’t need that. Natasha looked over at the movement and gave him a sympathetic look. She knew when he was really uncomfortable, and for all of her teasing, would always put him first and leave when he wanted to. It was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you again Peggy, but I’ve got to get home. Promised Clint we’d go out tonight.” Natasha said brightly, “Are you going to be here next week?” She smiled at Peggy’s nod. “Wonderful. Steve it was nice meeting you, we’ll see you next week.” Bucky gave a wave and mumbled his goodbyes, internally breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God for Natasha Romanov.


	2. Chapter 2

The week went by quickly. Steve couldn’t believe it was already Thursday. That meant art class tonight. That also meant seeing James again. Steve felt a frown tug at his lips when he thought of the dark haired man. Last week hadn’t gone very well in the way of introductions, but Steve was determined to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He hated making people feel uneasy around him. Of course, if it was his presence causing James to feel that way, he would back off. The thought caused his frown to deepen. He didn’t want that to happen. He liked making new friends and James looked like the ideal person to be friends with. From his startling grey-blue eyes and cropped silky hair to his clearly muscular frame, James seemed- wait. James was really attractive. Fuck. Maybe Steve wanted to be more than friends. Who was he kidding? He wanted to climb that man like a tree.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of fantasising about James, and working. Steve loved his job. He worked at a coffee shop in downtown Brooklyn. It was kind of hipsterish, but the hot chocolate was to die for, and they let him display his art. So free heavenly drinks and free publicity. And he got paid for it. It was a pretty nice set up. Except for the morning rushes, but, as the owner said, at least it meant they were making money.

Steve was an artist, which was how Peggy had persuaded him to attend the night time classes; to improve his technique. What Peggy had neglected to mention was it was a beginner class, full of people who had clearly never picked up a brush or pencil before. Steve’s frustration towards the teacher was evident, but he couldn’t say anything. He’d had an entire childhood of doing people’s work for them. It came with being tiny and sick all the time. Putting it simply, Steve was horrendously bullied. It was why he was so righteous now. He couldn’t stand bullies, and would get in so many fights to prove it. It was a never-ending source of exasperation for both Peggy and his mother. Especially when Peggy was usually the one to put and end to the fights, usually with a well placed punch to the nose. Ever since childhood, they had been inseparable. People more often than not mistook them for a couple, and although they had tried dating each other, it had only lasted for a month before Peggy met Angie and the rest was history.

Shaking his head, Steve brought himself back the the present and started making the cafe cubano just ordered. He hated making this drink. He was sort of a coffee snob and this drink needed to be made perfectly, or it would taste awful. It required all of his concentration. He carefully poured the sugar and coffee into a cup, whisking it hard until it was foamy. He tipped the rest of the espresso into the cup and handed it off to the customer, looking up with a smile as he did. The smile froze on his face as he found himself face to face with Peggy’s friend Natasha. She smiled back at him, throwing back the coffee in one shot. She shoved a few bills into the tip jar and passed the cup back to him, 

“Hi, Steve was it? I don’t know if you remember me, but we met last week? I’m Peggy’s friend.” She grinned brightly at him and he was reminded eerily of Peggy. They had the same calculating look in their eyes, a look that he knew was judging him. “I was in the neighbourhood and remembered Peggy mentioned you worked as a barista, so I thought I’d come and check out your skills for myself. Clearly you know your way around a cup of coffee. And a paintbrush, if she was right about the art on the walls.” Natasha looked around at Steve’s work, impressed.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. He hated when Peggy boasted about him. All it did was make him embarrassed. “Yeah she tends to oversell me, I’m really not all that good. It’s more of a hobby now anyway, what with work and everything.” he replied, his gaze fixed on a coffee stain on the counter. He grabbed a rag and scrubbed at it, trying to keep his hands busy.

“Hm. That may be true, but in your case she definitely wasn’t overselling anything. These pieces are fantastic. Which brings me onto why I’m really here.” Natasha leaned forward, and Steve got the distinct impression that she was always this intimidating. “My friend, James, he’s been struggling with the art class. Poor sod hasn’t ever picked up a pencil. He needs help, and Peggy told me you’d be more than willing to assist with that. Of course, if you’re not willing, I understand. I can find someone else to give him more lessons-” At this Steve perked up. One on one time with Bucky, possibly in his apartment, giving him art lessons? That could lead to a lot of extra curricular activities, if Bucky was willing. Before he had time to think too much, Steve was agreeing, “Great,” Natasha said, “we can go over the details tonight. James is a bit of a nuisance when it comes to his pride, so we need to be subtle about this. Can you offer lessons? Instead of him asking, it’ll be you offering. You understand, right? He’s a delicate flower, really.”  
Steve frowned, but nodded. He didn’t usually like being underhanded about things, but if it meant he could see more of James, he was all for it. He now couldn’t wait for art class tonight. This shift couldn’t end fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm hoping to update every other day. Let's see if I can stick to it, and I apologise deeply if not.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky rolled out of bed with a grunt. He looked around blearily, hand reaching out to grab his phone. He yawned, smacking his lips together, feeling the dryness at the back of his throat. He had a missed call from Natasha. It probably wasn’t important, otherwise she’d be here already. They had keys to each others places, something Natasha abused, turning up at random times in the day and often in the middle of the night, bottle of vodka in hand and wanting to talk. Bucky couldn’t be too angry at her; she was only trying to help him. And it worked, not that he’d ever admit it.

He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, feeling the metal creak in the same way his joints popped. It was a really amazing piece of technology, it felt and acted like a real arm. If only Tony Stark didn’t have a robot fetish. Then maybe it would look like a real arm too. He dropped his phone on the bed and went to the bathroom, eager to wash the night off his body. He stood in the scorching hot shower, letting the water soak his hair, tipping his head back to warm up his face. He was always running cold, especially in the mornings. It didn’t help that it was already mid-November and his landlord still hadn’t fixed his radiators. He was lucky he didn’t die of hypothermia. His dog, Soldat, helped with his near freezing temperature, always up for cuddles. He really needed to take that dog on a long walk to repay him.

After he’d showered, dressed and ate, Bucky left the house, Soldat’s leash tied around his hand. He only had a few hours until the art class, and he was determined to do something with himself in the meantime. Without a job, finding stuff to do was difficult, but as long as it was free and didn’t require too much thought, Bucky was all over it. As he walked down the street, he pulled his phone out to text Natasha, asking what she phoned him for. As soon as he hit send, she immediately started ringing him. “Tash?” he asked with trepidation. He knew she hated that nickname but it didn’t stop him from using it. He hated when she called him James so they were even. Sort of.

“James, what are you doing right now?” Natasha asked. She was blunt, which Bucky loved. No messing around with her.

“Um, I’m taking Soldat for a walk, why?” at the mention of his name, Soldat perked up, tongue lolling out as he grinned.

“Meet me at the coffee shop, I’ve got to talk to you about something.” with that, Natasha hung up. With a sigh, Bucky tucked the phone back into his pocket. He pulled Soldat along to the coffee shop he and Natasha regularly met up at. It was a cute little place on the corner, that sold incredibly strong coffee and allowed dogs. It was Bucky’s favourite place in Brooklyn. Although if Steve kept turning up to the art classes, it would be a strong contender.

He opened the door, hearing the little bell above his head. He was immediately overwhelmed with the smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls, the heat enveloping him like a much-needed hug. He hadn’t realised how cold it was outside until he got inside. His muscles visibly relaxed as he breathed in deeply.  
He spotted Natasha in the corner, her small frame obscured by the squishy brown armchair she was sitting in. Two cups of coffee sat in front of her, another absurdly large armchair calling for Bucky to rest his feet. He shuffled over and sat with a grateful sigh, pulling Soldat’s lead closer to him. His dog sat obediently, and was rewarded with a treat from Bucky’s pocket. He patted his head fondly and gulped his coffee gratefully. “Hey Nat, how’s it going? You needed to talk to me?” Bucky asked, smiling at his best friend.

“James, you should know by now that when I say talk I mean ‘want some company while I drink my coffee’.” Natasha raised an unimpressed eyebrow and sipped her coffee. Bucky shrugged and grinned at her easily. He’d known this was her plan, of course. He was just a little shit who couldn’t help but wind her up. They sat in companionable silence, both of them comfortable to just sit with each other without needing to fill the silence. Bucky kept a hand on Soldat when one of the waitresses had come over to put a bowl of water near his feet.

After both their mugs were empty and Bucky had finally gotten comfortable with the heat, Natasha stood, brushing herself down. She looked down at Bucky when he let out a pitiful whine. He didn’t want to go back out in that awful cold. He checked his watch and cursed. There was only an hour until the art class. He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a ratty hoodie. He’d wanted to dress a bit nicer this time, knowing Steve was going to be there. Natasha gave him a knowing smirk and rolled her eyes. She pulled him to his feet and he all but sprinted out the door, Soldat leaping joyfully in his wake.

He was late. He knew he shouldn’t have had another shower. But he was sweaty from running all the way home to get ready. Not that it would’ve made much difference, as he’d run to the art class as well. It was only a few blocks away from his flat, but he was still a little out of breath when he arrived. He burst into the room, much to the annoyance of the teacher and, judging by her face, the absolute delight of Natasha. When he looked around the room and saw only one spare seat, he made a beeline for it, not checking who was sitting there. He looked up and made eye contact with Natasha. Her smile was positively blinding and, when he looked to his right, he saw why.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve watched as James entered the room, ten minutes late. He looked like he’d been running, hair wild and red spots high on his cheekbones. Steve unconsciously licked his lips as his gaze traveled down James’ body. He blinked, realising he was staring for way too long, as James took the seat- the only free seat, Steve noticed- next to him. James was scowling across the room at Natasha, who’s smile could literally power a sarcasm factory for a year. Next to her was Peggy, looking just as smug. Even though Steve had agreed to the plan, he still didn't like deceiving James. As Steve turned his head to his canvas, pushing his glasses up his nose, James turned to look at him.

“Hi, Steve, right?” James smiled at him, extending his hand. Steve smiled back, the back of his neck heating up with a brilliant blush.

“Yeah, and you’re James?” he took James’ hand, gripping it firmly. He didn’t like to be underestimated because of his size, and more than made up for it with little displays like this.

“Uh. Actually, my name is Bucky. Only Nat calls me James because she knows I hate it.” Bucky withdrew his hand and Steve immediately mourned the loss of contact. He blinked, trying to make it seem like he was actually listening and not just fantasising about what it would be like to have Bucky’s hand around his- not the time, Steve, focus.

“Bucky? How’d you get Bucky from James?” Steve blurted, his brain to mouth filter once again out of commission. He winced, “Sorry, that was rude. Don’t answer that.”

Bucky laughed (a sound Steve would gladly die listening to, not that he was dramatic or anything) “No it’s fine. You’re not the first and you’re definitely not gonna be the last. My middle name’s Buchanan. Apparently my mother thought naming me after the fifteenth president would have a better impact on my life. So far she’s been wrong. Apart from the fact that he was almost definitely gay. Which I am also.” Bucky was babbling, and it was adorable, but Steve knew he’d have to save him. He filed away the fact Bucky was gay for future use, but for now he held up a hand.

“That’s so funny. Your mother must be so fun at parties.” Steve deadpanned, grinning despite himself. Bucky flushed, clearly embarrassed. That only made Steve grin wider. “As much as I’d like to get to know more about your mother’s misguided attempts at making your life successful, we really need to be paying attention to the class.”

“Aw fuck, you’re right” Bucky turned to the teacher in the middle of the room, trying desperately to pay attention. Steve watched him fondly, well aware he was falling hard. He sighed and turned to his canvas.

After a few minutes of painting, Steve glances at Bucky’s work and immediately saw what Natasha was talking about. The poor guy couldn't draw for shit. He swallowed nervously and cleared his throat. Bucky jumped beside him, looking at him nervously, trying (and failing) to cover his frankly abysmal painting.  
“Hey, Bucky?” Steve started hesitantly, brushing his hair out of his eyes, leaving drops of paint behind, “I was wondering if you'd, uh, possibly like to um-” he shot a desperate look at Peggy, who was making a ‘go on’ gesture and frowning at him.

Bucky looked concerned, watching the exchange between Peggy and Steve with furrowed brows. He also looked adorably confused. “Steve what is it?” He prompted, putting his paintbrush down. Steve had noticed he'd only do things with his right hand, his left hand always stuffed in his pocket. It was kind of endearing, if a little confusing.

“You suck at drawing” Steve blurted before he could think about it properly. What was with his mouth today? It just ran itself off without consulting his brain. He smacked himself in the head forcefully, wanting to die right there. Bucky’s face got more confused, and, to Steve's horror, there was an emotion very close to hurt in his steel blue eyes. Steve held his hands up in a surrender, “that's not what I meant. Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was, I'm an artist. I was gonna offer to help you with the class, but apparently I'm unable to communicate properly. I'm really sorry.” He grimaced and waited for the inevitable rejection. Instead, he heard a laugh. The same laugh he was gonna die listening to. Apparently his death was closer than he had planned. It was one thing to be rejected, but to be laughed at as well? That was not on. He scowled and opened his mouth, ready to let his famous temper out on the (beautiful) man in front of him.

“Steve.” Bucky laid a placating hand on his shoulder and oh god he was touching him “-for the offer, that's very kind of you-” his hand was warm and solid, a hand he wanted touching him in some not so friendly places, “-extra classes or something at my house?” Bucky looked expectantly at him and it was then Steve realised he hadn't heard a word Bucky said. He nodded and to his relief Bucky smiled. “Cool, can I have your number? So we can arrange a day and I can text you my address.” Steve blinked. What was going on? He nodded again and pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Bucky. Once their numbers had been exchanged, Bucky smiled at him easily and went back to his drawing. Steve sat in stunned silence for a couple more minutes and eventually picked up his paintbrush. He guessed he'd find out soon enough what Bucky was talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't really know how I feel about this chapter, but at least they're finally talking. Steve literally does not know when to shut up. Poor idiots. I love them both so much.
> 
> Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t know what to say to him!” Bucky tugged on his hair in frustration. Both Natasha and Clint looked at him, identical unimpressed looks on their faces. How did they look so similar? Natasha was always dressed to the nines, not a hair out of place, and Clint was, well, Clint. He always seemed to look like he’d just rolled out of bed after a wrestling match with a bear, if the numerous pink and purple plasters were anything to go by. Bucky, not for the first time, wondered how they had gotten together, much less stayed together long enough to get married. He supposed it was one of life’s mysteries. Much like this text to Steve. He groaned and flopped onto the sofa, kicking Clint further along so he could stretch his legs across his lap. Clint huffed in annoyance, but Bucky wasn't fooled. The big, goofy smile across Clint’s face said he wasn't really annoyed.

“Seriously Buck, I haven’t seen you this stressed about a cute boy since you met me!” Clint said, hands patting Bucky’s shins comfortingly. Bucky rolled his eyes at his friend and sighed, once again running his hands through his (really gross) hair. He needed a shower. And a conversation starter.

“Why don’t you just ask him to meet you for coffee? As a normal, platonic, not-date. Maybe go over arrangements for his extra lessons?” Natasha asked, a highly suspicious smile crawling over her face. Bucky didn’t trust that look at all, but he couldn’t think of how asking Steve to grab coffee with him could possibly warrant Natasha’s attitude.

“Yeah, but what do I say? I can’t just text saying, ‘Hi Steve fancy getting a cup of coffee and discussing my poor excuse for art skills while I try not to notice how pretty you are?’” Bucky whined, his fingers moving fast in sign so he didn’t have to lift his head for Clint to read his lips. 

Natasha nodded her head, “that’s exactly what you say, possibly without the weird ass compliment. I’m not sure Steve would appreciate it so soon. Maybe save that for when you are actually dating, James. Not everyone likes their prettiness pointed out all the time, present company excluded of course.” At this, Natasha batted her eyelids in an over exaggerated mimic of every girl that had flirted with Bucky, right before they found out he was gay. Bucky laughed and threw a pillow at her head, missing by quite a bit. Clint snorted at his poor aim, so Bucky flicked his foot up and kicked him in the chin. This started an impromptu wrestling match on the sofa, which only ended when Bucky somehow had Clint’s head trapped between his thighs. As Natasha had so rightly pointed out, that was her move. Bucky didn’t really want to know the context of that move, but he got all the information he needed when Clint’s eyes darkened and Nat smirked at him. He released Clint’s head pretty quickly after that.

Bucky sighed, conceding defeat. He took Nat’s advice, and text Steve asking to meet up for coffee at a coffee shop Nat had recommended. Apparently it was the ‘perfect place to discuss art’ and the ‘hot chocolate was to die for’. Bucky always took her advice seriously, especially when chocolate was involved. Everyone that knew him also knew about his insane sweet tooth. 

He told Nat he was going for a walk to scope out the coffee shop before he met Steve there, and couldn’t understand why her smile had grown impossibly wide. Clint jumped up to come with him, saying he’d bring Lucky. Lucky was Clint’s service dog, although he was way too hyperactive and he only had one eye. Clint liked to joke it was the blind leading the deaf, but by the sixth time he’d said it, Bucky and Nat had both told him to shut up. It didn’t stop him. Bucky knew Clint was only coming with him to make sure he was okay. Asking Steve for a coffee was a big step for Bucky, especially as he never went out without either Nat or Clint. He had severe anxiety after his accident and it always left him wary of new people. He hoped befriending Steve would help him overcome some of his hang-ups, but he also knew enough by now not to depend on Steve, and didn’t keep his hopes too high. He’d been hurt by way too many people in the past, people he’d considered his friends. They all dropped him as soon as he’d come out of hospital, his arm replaced by a whole host of mental baggage. Except, of course, for Natasha and Clint. Bucky knew he wouldn’t be here without them, which is why he didn’t put up too much of a fight when Clint followed him out the door.

“So. Now that Nat’s gone, you can tell me everything about your crush. What does he look like? Does he have a nice ass?” Clint wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, “come on, I want details about the boy who’s stolen my Buck’s heart.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Your Buck, huh? Last I knew, my bollocks belonged to Nat. She keeps them in her purse, right next to yours.” Clint laughed, startled at the quick comeback. Bucky smiled proudly. It was a well known fact that Natasha had both Bucky and Clint well trained. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe she actually did have their man-parts in her designer purse. “Man, I hope she lets me have them back if me and Steve do get it on.” Bucky sighed. Clint made an agreeing noise, tightening his hand on Lucky’s lead as they passed another dog. 

Bucky wasn’t thinking about how Steve hadn’t text him back. He wasn’t. He was focused on keeping a conversation with Clint, and not letting him see how badly Steve’s lack of communication was affecting him. Reasonably, he knew Steve must be busy with work and not ignoring him, but it didn’t stop the anxiety crawling into his throat, making it hard to concentrate. Before he knew it, they were stopping in front of a small coffee shop, boasting the best hot chocolate in Brooklyn. It had a sort of hipster vibe to it, not somewhere Nat would normally visit, but Bucky figured the hot chocolate really was that good if it had persuaded Natasha to recommend it. Bracing himself, he opened the door. And promptly froze in the doorway. He now knew the reasoning behind Nat’s suspiciously bright smiles. She’d set him up. Behind the counter, in an adorable apron and cap, looking better than he had any right to, was Steve freaking Rogers. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly longer than the others. It's more about character development than plot, so sorry if it drags. I promise the plot picks up after this chapter, and it's a fast track to seeing some adorable Stucky love. Maybe I should add slow burn to the tags? If they take any longer with their awkward skirting around each other, they'll never get anywhere!
> 
> Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Steve was having an awful day. He’d woken up this morning with a tight chest and aching joints. Days like this he really hated his body. He knew his asthma had to flare up at some point, with the cold weather closing in. He was, thankfully, prepared for this, with at least six inhalers in his apartment, another at work, and one in his pocket, just in case. He’d been given so many blankets and pairs of fluffy socks from Peggy that, when he bundled himself up, he was roasting within seconds, even without his heating on. Not that he could afford to keep his heating off. He didn’t want to end up in hospital with pneumonia again.

He’d been so close to calling in sick to work today, but he was the kind of person who would be on death’s door before he admitted his body was getting the better of him. He’d been constantly sick as a child and he refused to let anything as insignificant as weak lungs or fragile bones get in the way of his life. Besides, he needed the money to keep his heating on.

It was a slow shift, Friday’s generally weren’t very busy, apart from the morning rush, but it was now 1 o’clock and the shop was basically empty. Not that Steve was complaining. It gave him time to work on his art at least. He was currently doing some sketches of the few customers in the shop. It wasn’t his best work, just some rough sketches of different expressions and movements, but it kept him busy.

He was just about to put his sketchbook away and do some cleaning when the door opened. He rushed to the counter, pushing his glasses back up his nose and smoothing his apron down hastily, plastering a welcoming smile on his face. When the door didn’t close, he raised his head in confusion, and felt his heart skip a couple of beats. Bucky was here. In his shop. With his art on full display for anyone to look at. Steve quickly averted his eyes before they made contact with Bucky’s and he busied himself with wiping the counter down, waiting for Bucky to approach him.

He heard a shout and looked back up quickly to see Bucky being launched into the shop by a blonde guy covered in plasters. He had his hand around the leash of a puppy wearing a guide dog coat. Steve tried to hide his smile at Bucky’s outraged look but failed miserably.

Bucky walked over to the counter, his face red and his hand scrubbing through his hair roughly. Steve smiled at him, and this seemed to encourage Bucky to finally make eye contact. “Hi Bucky.” Steve asked, almost breathless. That probably had more to do with his asthma than Bucky’s presence. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself.

Bucky flushed considerably darker. Steve tried to focus on what Bucky was saying rather than marvel at the beautiful red staining his cheeks. He looked at Bucky’s lips in an effort to concentrate, but, if anything, it made it harder to pay attention. “Uh, hi, Steve. I had no idea you worked here, sorry. I don’t know if you got my text, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for coffee at some point and discuss these extra lessons? Figured I'd ask you now as you're here. And I'm here, too, obviously. And you might not have checked your phone or whatever.” Bucky was clearly going for nonchalance, but Steve could sense an underlying hint of something else in his tone. It almost sounded like desperation. He decided to let it go, not wanting to make Bucky uncomfortable.

He opened his mouth to reply, and instead was overcome by a hacking cough that shook his whole body. He desperately scrambled for his handkerchief (no he wasn’t ninety, shut up, Peggy) and coughed brutally into it, his lungs on fire. Bucky took an involuntary step back, his eyes wide and slightly terrified. Steve knew he must sound like his soul was leaving his body, but, really, he was used to it by now. Not a great first (third?) impression to make. Once the coughing had subsided, Steve smiled weakly. “Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a cold. I’d love to meet for coffee, when are you free?”

Bucky shrugged, looking around the shop. “I’m free now, when’s your break?” Steve looked behind him at the blonde man, who grinned easily back at him. Bucky followed his line of sight, “that’s Clint, Natasha’s husband. He’s also my babysitter. The dog is Lucky. He's Clint's babysitter. I was gonna bring my dog but I wasn't sure about this shop's policy on pets” Bucky said. Steve wondered if Bucky rambled about everything or if this was a privilege only Steve was allowed. He was endeared either way. While he was contemplating Bucky’s conversational skills, the expectant look on Bucky's face reminded him that Bucky had just asked him a question.

“I mean, technically I’m here on my own for the rest of the day. Friday’s are never busy anyway.” Steve shrugged, “I can have a break now, but if a customer comes in, I have to serve them. What can I get you? On the house, of course.” Behind Bucky, Clint coughed pointedly, “and something on the house for your friend too. I can't imagine the pain he's had to go through, hanging out with you.” Steve's tone was playful, but he didn't miss the split second flash of hurt in Bucky's eyes. Damn. He'd really need to watch what he said. Obviously Bucky was sensitive. Clint laughed behind him, coming closer to throw an arm around Bucky's shoulder. Steve could literally see the tense air around Bucky relax at the contact and a spark of jealousy ran through him. He wanted to make Bucky feel that comfortable.

“Nah, Buck's a riot. Bit of a dork, but funny as hell. I'm lucky to have him. Not you, you dozy dog.” Clint patted Lucky’s head fondly. It was then Steve noticed the hearing aids in Clint’s ears. The slight deaf accent clued him in, but he should've been more observant. He used to be partially deaf in one ear, so he knew sign language. He immediately felt rude for talking when he knew first hand the pain of using hearing aids.

“Uh, I heard your hot chocolate was amazing. Mind if I give it a try?” Bucky asked, his fingers moving in sign for Clint’s benefit, “one for Clint as well, please.” Steve nodded.

“Two hot chocolates coming up.” He signed. The effect was instantaneous. Clint’s face lit up in a beaming smile and Steve grinned back. Bucky had an impressed look on his face and Steve desperately wanted to kiss him.

After he'd made the drinks, he came around the counter and sat opposite Bucky in his favourite spot by the window. Clint flopped down next to Steve, nudging him and signing so fast Steve almost missed it. He laughed; Clint's enthusiasm was contagious. Steve looked expectantly at Bucky. “Yeah, so I was wondering if you'd be available once a week to help me improve my art skills. I could tell from class that you're a natural talent. I'm free basically all the time, so just give me a day that works for you?” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Steve was a little taken aback by his bluntness, but he supposed it was a quirk he'd get used to pretty quickly. Hopefully, anyway.

“Um well I have evenings off anyway. I finish at 7 everyday. My day off is actually Thursday, the same day as the art class. We could do Wednesday evening?” Bucky nodded, so Steve got up to get his bag. He pulled out his pocket diary (shut up, Peggy) and jotted down Bucky’s name and address. “I assume you want to meet at yours? It's okay if you want to do this somewhere else.” Steve said nervously.

“No! No, my house is fine. Just, uh, text before you get there. I don't generally answer the door to people I don't know.” Bucky said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. Steve noticed he was still wearing his gloves indoors. He resolved to turn the heating up. He didn't think it was cold in the shop, but he sometimes wasn't a good judge, especially when he was ill.

After both Clint and Bucky had finished their drinks, they left the shop, with promises to visit Steve again in the near future. Steve waved them off and shut the door. He smiled giddly. He was going to Bucky’s house next week. He wasn’t so presumptuous to assume it was a date, but even that thought couldn’t quell the excitement building inside of him. He almost got hit by the door as a customer came in, and with a jolt remembered he was supposed to be working. Wednesday couldn’t come quick enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lateness of this chapter. My nephew came to visit, so I spent the whole day yesterday rolling around on the floor being a superhero. Apparently superheroes roll around on the floor a lot? Hopefully this long chapter will make up for it!
> 
> Enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky woke up in a cold sweat. He could feel tears on his cheeks, stinging his eyes. He wiped them away angrily. He lurched up and stumbled to the bathroom, getting there just in time to throw up in the toilet. Wiping his mouth, he sat against the toilet, breathing heavily. He practised breathing exercises, trying to calm himself down. It had been ages since he’d had a nightmare. The ache of his left arm was more pronounced every time he had one. Even with his new prosthetic, he could feel a gaping hole where it usually was.

He shook off the ringing in his ears, resolutely not recognising it as the screams of his unit around him. This was a bad one. Clumsily, he hoisted himself up and staggered to the bedroom, pulling the charger out of his phone. He searched his contacts for Natasha’s number, squinting at the bright screen. He held the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing, still breathing carefully so as not to work himself up again.

“Hello?” a gravelly, sleepy voice answered.

“Oh shit, you’re not Natasha.” Bucky blurted, too wound up to realise he was being quite rude.

“No, I’m not. Bucky? What’s wrong?” Steve sounded a lot more awake now he could hear the tone in Bucky’s voice.

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the three day old stubble on his cheeks, “Ah, nothing Steve. Sorry to have woken you up. I promise to get the right number this time.” He chuckled, but it sounded forced even to his own ears. He inwardly winced.

“Wait, Bucky. Maybe I can help? I mean, I’m awake now, aren’t I?” Steve sounded weirdly urgent to keep Bucky on the line. It was probably Bucky just projecting. As bad as he felt, the sound of Steve’s voice was actually helping him relax.

“I mean, if you’re sure. I don’t know if Natasha would appreciate being woken up now, now that I’m thinking about it.” Bucky said it lightly, but he knew without a doubt if he phoned after a nightmare, Natasha would always pick up and talk to him until he’d calmed down enough to fall back to sleep. She never complained about it, either.

“So what’s up? I’m assuming you were calling Natasha in the middle of the night for a reason. You don’t have to tell me. Just know that I’m here to talk if you want.” Steve said hesitantly. Bucky could die from embarrassment right then. No way could he tell Steve he’d woken up from a nightmare. He was trying to befriend the man, not drive him away with his dysfunctionality.

“Uh, I’d rather not talk about it. You want to watch a movie or something? You got Netflix, right?” Bucky sat himself back on his bed, grabbing his laptop and pulling his duvet back over his legs.

“Yeah, hold on a sec.” Bucky could hear Steve shuffling around, presumably getting his laptop. “Got it. What do you wanna watch?”

“Uh, I’ve heard that new horror film is good?” Bucky worried his lip between his teeth.

Steve chuckled, “No offence Buck, I don’t think I can watch a horror at this time of night. I’ll be awake for a week. They give me pretty terrible nightmares, even in the daytime.”

“Okay, okay, no horror.” Bucky laughed to hide the discomfort the mention of nightmares had caused. He scrolled down his laptop screen and found the perfect thing to watch with Steve. “How do you feel about cheesy rom-coms? They give you nightmares too?”

“I’m always up for cheesy romance,” Steve laughed, “which one did you have in mind?”

Bucky gave him the title, and they counted down from three to press play at the same time. They joked and chatted through it, pointing out bits they thought were funny, and groaning at the abundance of corny moments. Before Bucky knew it, it was getting light outside. He yawned widely, smiling when he heard Steve laugh. “Okay, Buck, time for sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Technically it’s tonight.” Bucky couldn’t help being pedantic. It was in his nature.

“Goodnight Bucky. Sweet dreams. I’ll see you later.” Steve promised.

“Night, Steve. Sorry for waking you up and keeping you awake with bad comedies.”

“Nah, it was good fun. I really enjoyed talking to you.” Bucky could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. He said goodnight and thanked him again before hanging up. He plugged his phone back in, put his laptop on the floor and rolled over, falling asleep instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late! Writer's block has been kicking my ass. This chapter isn't great, but my creativity seems to have taken a hike. I promise I'll try to update more regularly!
> 
> Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

Steve sighed when Bucky hung up the phone. Although it was a mistake, he was really glad Bucky had called him. He expected it to be awkward when he offered to talk, not wanting to push this almost stranger into talking about things that clearly made him uncomfortable. Instead, they had joked and laughed all night, watching cheesy comedies. It felt easy. Steve knew he was so far gone on the man, despite not really knowing him. He honestly couldn't wait until their private session tonight. He wanted to be the reason to make Bucky laugh. He groaned. Maybe he should stop watching so many damn romance films. He was starting to sound like a sap.

He pulled himself out of bed, figuring he could go to the coffee shop early and help Peggy set up. He also needed to talk to her about his Bucky problem. He staggered to the bathroom and turned the shower on, holding his hand under the spray until it was hot. It didn’t take him long to get washed and dressed, combing his hair in it’s usual side parting. Peggy goes on and on about his hair, telling him to style it a different way, saying the flat side parting makes him look like he’s from a decade almost a hundred years before his time. Everytime she mentions it, he pointedly looks at her vintage clothing and 40’s curls. That’s probably why they’re such good friends. Neither of them act like they were born in the right time.

He arrives at work twenty minutes later, wrapped up tightly in his thick coat and scarf. He was well aware he looked ridiculous, almost as wide as he was tall, but it was cold. There was no way he’d sacrifice his health for something as stupid as the way he looked. Even if Bucky was there. Steve scolded himself for thinking that Bucky would care about the way he looked. Nothing the other man had done suggested he was interested in Steve, especially not in the way that looks even mattered. He sighed. Now was not the time for self pity. He had a shop to run. He looked through the window and saw Peggy wiping down the counter, checking the cups were stocked up and the coffee machines were on. He was so glad he wasn’t opening on his own this morning. He felt slightly off, probably because he had very little sleep the night before. He knew the lack of sleep would eventually make his health deteriorate quicker. He needed to be well rested to fight off the plethora of diseases that invaded his body every winter. But he wouldn’t trade the night talking to Bucky for anything. Not even perfect health.

He opened the shop door, hearing the bell as he pushed it open. He approached the counter, grinning widely at Peggy as she handed him a freshly brewed cup of coffee. She’d used their new winter roast, and it was perfect. Black with one sugar, exactly how he liked it. He generally enjoyed the fussier coffees, like lattes with syrups, but nothing beat a plain drip coffee in the morning. He gulped it down gratefully, his eyes closing of their own accord. When he opened them, Peggy was looking at him with concern. He dreaded to think what he looked like after no sleep, but he still raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Did you sleep at all last night, Steve?” she asked exasperatedly, raising her own cup to her red lips. She always drank tea, something she got relentlessly teased for by Steve, but she refused to let go of her British traditions. Plus, she hated the taste of coffee.

Steve rolled his eyes, “of course I did, I would look a lot worse if I didn’t, trust me. I just got a little less sleep than normal.” he ducked his head and took another sip of his coffee.

“May I ask why?” Peggy reached over and tugged at his scarf. Steve took the hint and discarded his coat, scarf and hat. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, making Peggy tut when he smeared fingerprints all over the lenses, “it’s a wonder you can see anything, honestly Stevie.”

Steve blushed at the nickname. “I can see a damn sight better with dirty glasses than with none at all, Pegs. And as for my lack of sleep, I got a phone call last night.” he swallowed, “from Bucky.”

The effect was instantaneous (and also hilarious). If Peggy had anything in her mouth, it would’ve been a spectacular spit take. As it was, she choked slightly on air, inhaling sharply. A wide grin stretched over her face. “Bucky? As in that charming piece of arse we met at the art class? Natasha’s friend Bucky?” Peggy looked positively thrilled as Steve’s blush darkened. “Oh darling this is fantastic news! Did you stay up all night whispering sweet nothings to each other in the dark?” Peggy’s smile turned devilish, “or was it more tasteless than that?” At Steve’s outraged expression, she smirked, “Lord knows you need some Steve, don’t take that tone of face with me.”

Steve sputtered indignantly, “he phoned me by mistake, after what I assume was a nightmare, and we watched a movie and chatted. Nothing else!” at the mention of Bucky’s nightmare, Peggy’s face softened. She knew how difficult nightmares were for Steve, and hearing their new friend was going through the same sort of thing hurt her more than she would admit. It was clearly affecting Steve, if the way he was staring at the dregs of his coffee was any indication.

“Steve, honey, you know I was joking. But you can’t deny you want some. I mean, you’d have to be blind not to find him attractive. Hell, I’m gay and I’d still want a go on that ride!” 

Peggy’s attempts at cheering Steve up worked, his small smile stretching as he laughed at her enthusiasm, “Sorry Pegs, that man is completely gay.” Steve sighed again, “I do want him, but I also want to get to know him and have cuddles while we watch shitty tv on my couch and spend time with him. Going on dates and stuff. I really like him, Peg.” He looked up at Peggy with sad eyes. She was grinning softly at him, recognising the look in his face.

“Steve, if you like him, please tell him. It’d be hard to resist you. Look at yourself. He’d be stupid to deny his own feelings. You didn’t see the way he kept looking at you last week. I mean, I think you were the only one who didn’t see it. It was fairly obvious to the whole class. Almost as obvious as the way you were looking at him.” At Steve’s panicked look, she was quick to backtrack, “he didn’t notice either. I swear, you two are made for each other, oblivious idiots that you are.”

Steve didn’t know whether to be offended or grateful in that moment. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Bucky how he felt. After all, he barely knew the man. They’d met a handful of times and spoken once on the phone. Surely that wasn’t enough to develop feelings this strong? On the other hand, it felt like he’d known Bucky all his life. The only other person he’d ever felt this comfortable with so soon was the woman standing opposite him. Steve would be forever grateful for Peggy Carter, but she was a pain in the ass sometimes. Especially when she was right.

Steve glanced up at the clock and swore loudly, making Peggy jump. It was half six already. They should’ve opened half an hour ago, and nothing was prepped. Peggy followed his line of sight and swore even louder, using a lot more colourful language than Steve. He was pretty sure most of the words were obscure British curse words, as he’d never heard them before.

As they rushed around getting everything prepared, Steve took a moment to be grateful Peggy owned the coffee shop. It meant they couldn’t really get into trouble, unless Angie came in. She was Peggy’s wife and co owner of the coffee shop. She was also twice as scary as Peggy, not that Steve would say it to either of them, in case he got shot. He busied himself with putting the pastries on the trays and watched the clock, waiting for the evening when he would see Bucky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Sorry sorry sorry! I literally have no excuse for the lateness of this. I've tried to make it a bit longer, and I'm currently writing the next chapter, so hopefully a shorter wait time. Work has been kicking my ass, and looking after my nephew has now become another full time job. I'm hoping to get this all done by the new year, but with my track record, it's not likely.
> 
> Enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

Cleaning was hard. Bucky longed for the days he used to resent, when he had nothing to do and could spend the day in bed. He hated cleaning, but Steve was coming round that night and his apartment really needed a deep scrub. And vacuum and dust. He also needed to unpack the last few boxes in his living room. He’d been using them as a coffee table, but he realised they just looked messy. After six months living there, Steve was the reason he was finally unpacking his books.

He’d already made a trip to Ikea to get a proper coffee table and bookshelf. They were currently sitting in their boxes in his living room, next to the as yet unpacked boxes of books. He groaned to himself. He was meant to be getting rid of the boxes, not adding to his collection. He was glad for his prosthetic, for the first time in a while, as it meant he could lift his sofa and bed and wardrobe with ease as he vacuumed underneath them. Tony had made the arm unnecessarily strong, saying ‘you never know when you’ll need superhuman strength, Buck. What if we were attacked by aliens? Then where would you be, huh?’ He’d rolled his eyes back then and he rolled his eyes at the memory. Tony was a genius, but he did like to overcompensate with his inventions. It wasn’t hard for Bucky to guess what he was overcompensating for. He was attractive, smart and rich. That only left one small thing he could be worried about.

Bucky snickered as he scrubbed his sink vigourously. He probably didn’t need to be cleaning quite so much, but it gave him something to do. He’d rather be stress cleaning than panicking about the fact that Steve was coming round later. Because Bucky was definitely on the verge of panicking. Steve was coming to his apartment. He gave the impression of someone put together and tidy. Bucky was neither of those things. He’d been up for nearly four hours and he’d only just got the bathroom looking decent. He felt ashamed of the way he lived. He wasn’t necessarily unclean, he just didn’t put things away behind him. Or wash the sink all that often, unless it was really gross. He did have grime in his tiles, until he’d bleached the ever-loving shit out of them. They were now white and gleaming. It didn’t look anything like his old bathroom.

He started on the kitchen next, procrastinating and tidying everything until he had to tackle the monsters in his living room. He wasn’t confident enough to consider tidying his bedroom properly, although he did open the curtains and pick his dirty clothes off the floor. He told himself it was for his own peace of mind and nothing to do with Steve coming over. He probably wouldn’t even end up in his bedroom.

The stack of dirty plates and cups gave Bucky mild anxiety. He honestly didn’t know how one person made this much mess. It must be Soldat. His dog was probably waking up in the night, cooking himself dinner and leaving the dirty dishes for Bucky to clean up. He nodded to himself, looking round to glare at his dog. Soldat grinned back and Bucky immediately felt bad. How dare he blame his mess on his poor, innocent puppy? The hair all over the floor, now that was definitely Soldat’s fault. Bucky had used the brush function on the vacuum in an effort to get it all up, but there was some that was so embedded into the carpet, Bucky wasn’t sure if it had always been there.

After what seemed like forever, Bucky had cleaned his entire apartment, and was in the process of assembling his new furniture. The instructions were all in a foreign language, and not one Bucky spoke. What was the point in knowing five languages if you couldn’t use that knowledge to put a bookshelf together? He scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. At this rate, he’d be too exhausted to do anything when Steve got there. But at least he didn’t look like he lived in a hovel anymore. He hoped Steve appreciated the effort, even with nothing to base his work on. Bucky sighed. Impressing cute dorky artists was extremely hard work, but Bucky was absolutely certain the payoff would be worth it. If there was any payoff. No, Steve didn’t owe him anything, and he was not going to get anywhere thinking he did. He was just glad the man wanted to be his friend to be honest.

Bucky spent the rest of the day fixing his bookshelf and coffee table together, leaving the apartment to walk Soldat and get lunch for them both after a mildly threatening text from Natasha telling him to eat. 

He checked the time when he’d finally finished and realised he had about an hour to shower, put all his books on the shelves and cram the now empty cardboard boxes into his bedroom. As well as making himself look fairly presentable and not like he’d been cleaning all day. Did the apartment smell like bleach? He wasn’t sure. He resolved to open the windows to let some air in while he was in the shower.

The shower was quite possibly the quickest one of his life. The water hadn’t even heated up properly by the time he’d gotten in and out, washing his body and hair. He decided to forgo conditioner, and put a tiny bit of product in his hair to make sure it wasn’t too floofy. After much deliberation, he decided on a thick navy jumper that brought out the blue in his eyes and black skinny jeans that made his ass look amazing. Not that he was trying to impress Steve or anything. He hoped Steve would be too distracted by his ass that he wouldn’t look at the metal hand. Bucky decided it was time to show his arm to Steve. At least that way he wasn’t too attached if he decided it was a deal breaker. Better to get it over with early than wait until Bucky had developed feelings. But, honestly, who was he kidding? He had deep feelings for the man already, and they hadn’t even had a date yet. 

He pulled on a pair of navy socks (he was all about colour co-ordination) and sat on his sofa. He still had twenty minutes until Steve was due to arrive. He tried reading a book picked at random from his new bookshelf, but he was too wound up to concentrate. Soldat seemed to sense his discomfort, and laid himself across Bucky’s lap, covering him completely. If his presence didn’t calm Bucky down so much, he would’ve been annoyed. He now had dog hair all over his jeans. He raked his fingers through Soldat’s thick fur, letting the familiar feeling wash over him and soothe his mind. Why was he getting so nervous? It was just Steve. Funny, dorky Steve, with his hipster glasses and blonde paint-streaked hair. Steve, who Bucky was hopelessly gone on.

The knock made him jump. He pushed at Soldat and got to his feet, brushing his jeans down and dislodging most of the fur. He took several deep breaths in the short walk to the door, and one more when his hand grasped the door handle, just for good measure. He opened it with a wide smile, which faltered when he took in the figure on the other side. Steve looked… well he looked like sex on legs if Bucky was being honest. He was completely bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, with a beanie shoved on his head. His nose was slightly pink from the cold and his glasses had fogged up adorably. Bucky wanted to jump his bones right there in the doorway. He barely managed to restrain himself, stepping to the side to let Steve in. His self restraint was tested even further when Steve grinned toothily at him. How had Bucky not noticed his slight overbite before? It was so fucking adorable he thought his heart was going to burst.

“Hi Bucky!” Steve waved like an absolute dork, stepping into the apartment and starting to unwind his scarf. Bucky blinked rapidly for a couple of minutes, his brain stuck. He was still holding the door open, his face frozen as he watched Steve wrestle with his coat, hands clutching a briefcase. He was going to die. This was it. He’d survived Afghanistan and losing an arm, but the sight of Steve Rogers basically stripping off was going to end him. “...You okay?” Bucky blinked again and saw Steve watching him cautiously, “I know I’m a bit early, I thought it would be okay. I can go if you want?” Steve tilted his head, biting his lip nervously. Bucky vaguely registered his hands were twisting themselves around the handles of his briefcase. He also registered the slightly resigned look in Steve’s eyes as he continued to stand there awkwardly, waiting for Bucky to respond.

“No!” Bucky half shouted, making both Steve and Soldat jump. Unlike Soldat, Steve didn’t bark, but it looked like a close thing. “Hi Steve. I’m sorry, you caught me a bit off guard. You look adorable in that coat.” What the fuck? “Please, stay, make yourself at home. Want a drink?” Steve nodded, his face scarlet. Bucky was choosing to ignore the fact he’d just called Steve adorable. He totally wasn’t hyperfixating on it. Not at all. “What do you prefer? I’ve got water, tea, coffee, beer, vodka…” Jesus Christ, Barnes, stop talking. Don’t offer the guy vodka.

“Uh, water would be great, thanks.” Steve was still red. He sat down on the sofa, perched on the edge, looking deeply uncomfortable.

“Water, right. I’ll just, uh, go and get that.” Bucky marched into the kitchen and banged his head quietly on the counter. What the fuck was wrong with him? He took longer than was strictly necessary getting the drinks, and when he came back Steve was looking at his bookshelf, a small grin on his face.

“You have a lot of science books.” he commented quietly, looking at Bucky’s admittedly very geeky collection. There was everything from Stephen Hawking to the novelisation of the Star Wars franchise. Bucky blushed. He was a out and proud nerd, but it was something he didn’t really want Steve knowing this soon. He scolded himself. Here he was, about to show off his pretend arm, and he was more concerned about how Steve would react to something Bucky wasn’t actually ashamed of. A voice that sounded scarily like Natasha in his head scolded him for being ashamed of his prosthetic, but he shook it off. One crisis at a time.

He decided to face it head on, like someone braver than him, “Yeah, uh, I’m a bit of a nerd. All this science stuff? Really turns me into a fanboy. I love anything technological.” In a snap second decision, he lifted his arm, tugging the sleeve up slightly and flexing his fingers, “it’s one of the reasons I didn’t stop Stark from doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else has seen the Endgame trailer? I actually screamed. Totally not okay


	10. Chapter 10

Steve blinked as he took in Bucky’s hand. It was shiny and silver, although his fingers moved fluidly. The plates shifted against each other, but it didn’t look stiff or robotic like Steve had automatically assumed. He was probably staring for a fraction too long, because Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably. He looked up and saw something in Bucky’s eyes. It was similar to embarrassment, but it looked more painful than that. Steve realised Bucky was scared. Scared of Steve’s reaction.

“Wow. That- that’s incredible.” Steve looked at the hand with wonder. He hesitantly reached out, his hand frozen a couple of inches in front of Bucky’s. He glanced up at Bucky’s face, looking for confirmation that this was alright. That he was allowed to touch. A slightly jerky nod was all the encouragement Steve needed before he was gently stroking his fingers along the metal plates, handling Bucky with care. The metal felt cooler than his own hand, but not as cold as he was expecting. “Can you feel this?” Steve couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper, consciously aware of how intimate this moment was.

He looked up to see Bucky swallowing, clearly as affected as Steve, “Not as much as I can feel with the other one. I can feel pressure, and hot and cold to an extent. Like, I can’t be burned. It’s not that sensitive. I can feel your fingers right now.” they stared at each other for a second longer, and Steve took a moment to appreciate the colour of Bucky’s eyes. They were a beautiful mix of blue, grey and a hint of green.  
Bucky’s eyes flickered down to his lips and with a jolt, Steve remembered why he was there. He pulled his hand back gently and stepped away from Bucky. He couldn’t believe he’d almost given himself away. He was meant to keep his distance, not let Bucky realise how ridiculously fast he’d fallen. He avoided eye contact as he cleared his throat and set his briefcase down on the coffee table. It gave a worrying wobble under the weight of his art supplies, and Bucky let out a slightly panicked noise. Steve looked up at him questioningly, just as the table legs gave out and the top collapsed.

Steve lunged towards the table to save his (very expensive) art stuff as Bucky grabbed Soldat’s collar and dragged him away before he got his nose crushed.

“Uh, I bought a new coffee table?” Steve looked at Bucky’s mortified face and couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up inside him. Bucky’s face had turned darker, a pretty pink blush painting the tops of his cheeks.

“And you assembled it today?” Steve guessed. Judging by Bucky’s face, he was spot on. He laughed again, hoping Bucky didn’t think he was laughing at him. Because he wasn’t. He was laughing at the situation (okay, maybe a little bit at Bucky, but who could blame him? It was funny.)

Bucky’s ears had turned red and that all but confirmed it. Steve stifled another laugh and looked at him apologetically. Bucky shrugged, going for nonchalant, and Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that his red face kind of ruined the image. “I was using a couple of cardboard boxes, but I finally unpacked them today. S’why I have the bookshelf as well.” Bucky guestered to the bookshelf Steve had just been looking at. He eyed it warily, hoping it didn’t collapse like his coffee table.

“Oh, have you just moved in?” Steve asked, hoping to direct the attention from Bucky’s lack of skills in building. He felt bad for laughing now. Bucky winced and Steve immediately wanted to slap himself. How was he making it worse?

“Um, no, actually. I moved in about six months ago and have only just gotten round to unpacking the last boxes. Been busy.” Bucky looked so uncomfortable Steve wanted to give him a hug. And possibly a kiss. But he wasn’t thinking about that.

At that moment Soldat, clearly bored of being ignored in favour of stilted conversation, barked loudly, making Steve jump slightly. He didn’t miss the grin on Bucky’s face as he jolted, and scowled back. “You wanna, um…” he trailed off, holding his art stuff up, and looking at Bucky questioningly. Bucky nodded, letting out a slight sigh. He ushered Steve into the kitchen, where he’d cleared the kitchen table in preparation for Steve’s arrival. Steve sat down on one of the chairs, “I hope this table is slightly more secure” Steve joked, placing his bag down carefully. Bucky snorted and took the seat opposite him.

“So I was thinking of just going through the basics of drawing today. Like how to do basic shapes, angles and shadows. It’s nothing complicated, I promise.” Steve said, opening his briefcase. He pulled out a brand new sketchbook he’d bought specifically for teaching Bucky and some pencils, handing them to Bucky, and then pulled out his own sketchbook. It looked a lot more worn than Bucky’s shiny new one, but Steve loved it. It was full of his work, sketches of Brooklyn, Peggy and strangers he found interesting in the coffee shop. He’d left the book with pictures of Bucky at home, not wanting the other man to see.

“Wow, Steve these are amazing.” Bucky breathed, looking through his work. He lingered on a picture of Peggy Steve had drawn a few weeks ago. It was just a rough sketch, but you could definitely see the love he had for her in the drawing. Steve blushed slightly, ducking his head. He really wasn’t anything special. Sure, he’d had a few galleries with his work, but his sketches were nothing to boast about.

They sat for a while in silence. Steve watched as Bucky flicked through his sketchbook, pausing occasionally at seemingly random pages. He was biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows furrowed. Steve could watch him forever. He was so careful with Steve’s sketchbook, touching the pages lightly, appreciating every line he’d drawn. It was almost obscene, the way he was looking at Steve’s work. He wished that gaze was directed at him. He’d love, just once, to be the focus of that kind of look. No one even looked twice at him in the street. He didn’t blame them; he wasn’t much to look at. It was why he wasn’t too bothered about Bucky’s apparent lack of interest. A short, skinny asthmatic wasn’t much to be interested in.

Steve lost himself in self pity, and missed the soft look Bucky was giving him. He blinked when the other man touched his arm lightly, the cool metal fingers grazing his wrist. “Hey sorry, I kind of lost myself there. Your sketches are really good.” Bucky smiled, ducking his head slightly, “I wish I was half as talented as you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Steve smiled tightly. He didn’t want to hear praises from a man who wasn’t (couldn’t be) interested in him. He felt bitter and selfish at the way he was reducing Bucky to his preferences but he couldn’t help it. Once he started spiraling with self-hatred it was hard to stop.

Bucky apparently noticed how uncomfortable Steve was as he took his hand away from Steve’s arm quickly. He tucked his arm away under the table, shaking his sleeve over his fingers as he did so. His face became closed off and he bit his lip nervously. “What’s wrong, Buck?”

“It’s okay, Steve, you don’t have to act like you’re okay with it.” Bucky looked so lost, so broken, it made Steve’s heart break. His eyes were averted, but Steve could still see the pain in them. Fuck. What did he do? “I know most people think they can deal with the whole bionic arm thing, but it’s fine. I get it, I really do. No one wants to be around me. I don’t need your pity.”

Steve looked at Bucky in alarm. He thought- no. That was completely out of the question. “Buck, I promise you I don’t have a problem with your arm. Or any part of you, for that matter. You’re everything I could ask for in a friend. To be honest, my only problem is why you’re spending your time with a loser like me. I’m not the kind of guy people want to be friends with. Your time and friendship means a lot to me, and I’m forever grateful for Nat and Peggy for introducing us. I know it’s only been a short time since we met, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Please, please understand I could never think any less of you because of something as little as the way you look. You’re so much more than that.”

Bucky looked up at Steve, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Although he was embarrassed for the word vomit he just unloaded, Steve held his gaze firmly, making sure Bucky knew he meant everything he said. It was wholly unfair for anyone to treat Bucky like he was less, and Steve wanted to kick the asses of all the people that made Bucky feel like that. Bucky let out a slightly choked laugh, and Steve realised he’d said that out loud. “Thanks, Steve, really. I appreciate you too. I’m sorry I got so defensive about it. Shall we get on with these lessons?” Steve accepted the change in subject and grabbed a pencil.

They spent the next few hours going over different drawing techniques and joking together. It was so easy to fall into the light banter they’d had before, and Steve cursed himself for letting his crush develop so quickly. Bucky’s eyes crinkled up when he laughed at a joke Steve had made, and Steve felt himself fall a little bit in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of sappy love in this chapter. Why are they both so depreciating of themselves? Don't they know they're both fabulous? Ugh, these boys.
> 
> I honestly thought this fic was gonna be shorter, but apparently these two aren't done telling their story, and who am I to argue? I know it's moving at a glacial pace, but take it up with them! I can't control how awkward they are ;)
> 
> Enjoy!


	11. Chapter 11

As Bucky shut the door on Steve, he breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone a lot better than expected, awful carpentry aside. He felt bad for getting so defensive about his arm, but after months of abuse from his old friends and ex-boyfriend, belittling him for something out of his control, he felt he had the right to be defensive. It was a dark time for him, and he wasn’t proud of it. Wasn’t proud of the way he tried so hard to remain friends with those people, thinking it was his fault for losing his arm. It took intervention from both Natasha and Clint and months of therapy to realise they were toxic and he was better off without them. That he didn’t need to change who he was to be happy.

He shook his head as he passed the trainwreck of the coffee table on the way back into the kitchen. He could definitely see the progress he’d made with his sketches, the improvements clear on the table. He was glad Steve had offered to teach him. For one thing, he always enjoyed learning new skills and drawing was no exception. For another, he really liked Steve. 

Bucky gazed at the mess on his kitchen table and made the executive decision to tidy it in the morning. Steve had left fairly late, and Bucky was exhausted from cleaning all day. He filled Soldat’s water bowl and gave him a pat to say goodnight. He knew that Soldat would soon be in his bed, despite the extremely comfortable bed Bucky had bought for him. Soldat preferred his bed, and Bucky didn’t blame him. He spent enough time there.

He stripped down to his boxers and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Usually he wore fluffy pyjamas when it was this cold, but he was too exhausted to get dressed again. He collapsed face first onto the bed and pulled the duvet tightly over him, burrowing deep under the covers. He hoped his exhaustion would give him reprieve of his nightmares, but didn’t hold out much hope. He’d had a good day; the other shoe had to drop at some point.

He jolted awake a while later, wondering what had woken him up. He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he instinctively knew it wasn’t a nightmare. He laid in bed for a moment, turning to look at his clock. According to the time, he’d only been asleep for an hour. He frowned and jumped when he heard a knock on his door. It sounded frantic, and it wasn’t quiet either. He pulled himself out of bed, ignoring his half nakedness and stumbled to the door, shoving his hair out of his face as he opened it. He groaned when he saw both Clint and Natasha standing there, a bottle of vodka in Natasha’s hand. They wore matching grins that immediately put Bucky on edge.

“Hey James, how are you this evening?” Natasha looked at Bucky with a shit-eating grin on her face. He grunted in reply, standing to one side to let them in. Clint offered him a slightly apologetic look and immediately Bucky knew whatever they were doing was entirely Clint’s fault.

“You realise I was asleep right? For the first time in, oh, I don’t know, like two weeks?” at this, both of his surprise guests had the decency to look slightly guilty at his admission. They knew Bucky had difficulty sleeping and took whatever he could get. He waved his hand dismissively, letting them know he wasn’t actually angry, “what are you doing here anyway? I thought it was date night?”

“Yeah, date night for you and Steve!” Natasha grinned. Bucky groaned. So that’s why they were here. He loved his friends, owed them his life, but they were so annoying when it came to his love life. Annoying meaning really invasive and crossing every line there is to cross. Bucky’s honestly surprised they haven’t tried to watch him have sex yet. Although, he thought as he got glasses from the cupboard, that’s probably not from lack of trying.

“It wasn’t a date.” Bucky grumbled, sitting down in front of them. He was conscious of the fact that he was sitting in his underwear, and shifted around. He’d known Nat and Clint forever, and they’d seen him a lot worse than he was now. Still, he knew the scarring on his arm wasn’t something nice to look at. In fact, it was grotesque, and he was slightly proud of how well Clint and Natasha were avoiding looking at it or pulling faces. He never used to be body conscious; had no reason to be. He had nice abs, toned arms and his ass was honestly his best feature. It still was, but nobody noticed when he had his shirt off. They only noticed his scars, the angry red welts where metal was fused to skin.

“Sure it wasn’t.” Clint drawled, smirking at Bucky and handing him his vodka. Bucky downed it, knowing unquestionably he’d need all the alcohol for this conversation. He didn’t miss the amused look sent his way and scowled in the general vicinity of his supposed friends. He held out his glass and it was dutifully filled by Natasha, who was hiding her smirk behind her own glass. “You know I was there when you made the plans, right? Every excruciatingly awkward minute of it.”

“Wow, you know some big words there Clint, I’m super proud of you!” Bucky shot back, knocking back his second glass. A voice in the back of his head told him to slow down. He usually ran his mouth when he got drunk enough, and he didn’t want to give Nat or Clint any ammunition. “It wasn’t a date, Steve is way out of my league. He wouldn’t want to date some screwed up person like me.” Woah. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Where the hell had that come from?

“Hey, none of that, thank you.” Nat said disapprovingly, swiping his glass from his hand. Bucky relented his grip easily. “I can’t believe you’ve fallen this fast.” Bucky tried to protest, he really did, but he was slightly tipsy, and he couldn’t flat out lie to Nat. He wondered, not for the first time, how she managed to read him so easily. She was eerily perceptive when it came to his emotions. Most of the time she knew what he was feeling before he realised it himself.

Clint looked at him consideringly for a moment, then scooted his chair round the table to rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder. His right one, thank god. Bucky sighed, trying to hold back his tears. Even though Clint was the definition of Human Disaster, he knew how to comfort Bucky when he needed it. He felt a warm hand rub up and down his back and he shivered slightly, once again hyper aware of his nakedness. “Don’t worry about it guys. Steve’s a friend- a good one- and I don’t want to ruin it. It’s been ages since I’ve been able to make friends. Especially friends who don’t seem to mind about my arm.”

“You showed him your arm?” Clint lifted his head and stared at Bucky in shock. Bucky knew the look was warranted. He hadn’t shown anybody the arm except his family, Nat and Clint. And the bastards he’d rather not think about right now. He shrugged in reply to Clint, not wanting to make a big deal of it. He thought he might start panicking if he did. Unfortunately, Clint decided to make a big fucking deal of it, “Buck, that’s great! I’m so glad you’ve found someone you’re that comfortable around! We were getting a bit worried, you know.” he gestured at himself and Natasha, oblivious to the waves of discomfort coming from Bucky.

Thankfully, Natasha’s secret empath powers kicked in, and she hit Clint upside the head. He yelped and glared at her. Bucky watched as they had one of their telepathic conversations. It used to unnerve him, but now he was used to it. He still didn’t have a clue what they were saying to each other though. You’d think after that many years he’d be able to understand, but it still remained a mystery to him. They used to communicate in sign language but after Bucky had taken a class they were forced to read each other’s minds.

Bucky sighed guiltily. He knew Clint was trying to help and he’d acted like an asshole. His head was buzzing from the vodka or exhaustion, he wasn’t sure which. As much as he appreciated his friends, he kind of wanted them to leave so he could go to bed. It had been a long day. He knew if he asked them to leave they would, no questions asked. But that felt horribly rude when they’d come all this way to not so subtly check up on him. Even if they’d said they were fishing for details about his ‘date’ with Steve, they were really just making sure he was alright. He truly didn’t deserve them.

He cleared his throat pointedly, causing Natasha and Clint to jump slightly and look over to him. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and then raised his empty glass. Natasha scoffed at him but refilled his glass anyway. Bucky smiled gratefully at her and took a gulp. He was busy concentrating on the watermarks staining the glass, so intently that he almost missed the sound of his phone ringing in the living room. He jumped up, stumbling a bit from the alcohol, fearing the worst. It was late at night and his only two friends were with him. If that didn’t mean a family emergency, Bucky wasn’t sure what did. He didn’t recognise the number.

“Hello?” He sounded breathless and he was slurring. Great. An emergency and he was drunk. There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, and it sent a jolt through him. Steve.

“Hey, Bucky. Sorry if I woke you. Uh, this is super awkward, but I was wondering if you’d come across my phone at your place? I realise if you’re answering my phone then it must be there.” Steve laughed at himself and Bucky grinned. He liked Steve’s laugh. He listened to Steve’s voice for a couple more seconds before his alcohol soaked brain caught up with him. Steve had lost his phone. It might be here. He had to find it!

“Steve! I’ll have a look, just give me a sec.” Bucky navigated his way around the living room, ignoring Steve’s protests. He needed to find the phone, and apparently that took all of his concentration. He couldn’t see the phone in the living room, so he wandered into the kitchen, describing his findings in great and drunken detail to a laughing Steve. He paused when he noticed Nat and Cint were still in his kitchen, watching his antics with poorly concealed delight. “Hi guys! Steve here has lost his phone, and he thinks it might--might be here. Can you help me find it please?” He’d started hiccuping, which meant he was dangerously approaching drunk territory. A traitorous part of his mind told him he’d passed drunk a long time ago. He elected to ignore that voice.

“Sure, Buck, anything to help Steve.” Clint wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Bucky grinned in thanks, too busy (being drunk) listening to Steve’s voice to get annoyed with the obvious teasing in Clint’s voice. “What does the phone look like?”

Bucky repeated the question to Steve, who snorted. “It’s a black Stark phone. Wait really? You have a Stark phone? That’s so funny! I have a Stark arm!” Bucky cracked up, ignoring the raised eyebrows shot in his direction from his friends, “I’ll get Nat and Clint to look for it now.” Bucky made a shooing motion at his friends, who both gave him outraged looks. He handed his phone to Natasha and stumbled to his bedroom to search for Steve's phone.

“Uh huh. Yep, don't worry Steve. I've found your phone. I'll be sure to let Bucky know when he's sober. He'll be more embarrassed in the morning. Yeah.” Bucky heard Natasha’s laughter from the other room. When did he get into bed? He rolled over to check his phone, pausing when he realised Natasha was talking to Steve on his phone. Wait. His phone was plugged in where he left it. Who's phone did Nat have? Bucky could feel the blood drain from his face as he realised what had happened. God, who let him drink so much anyway?

“Nat!” Bucky was hit with the full force of his drunkenness as he lurched from his bed. He ignored the logic that it was too late to save face- he'd already made a complete twat of himself. He sprinted into the living room to see Nat seated comfortably on the sofa, Steve's phone pressed to her ear. He lunged for the phone, tripping over his own feet, and crashed straight into the remains of his coffee table, slamming his head on the corner. He was dimly aware of Nat standing up and calling for Clint, and he tried to tell her he was okay. He barely had time to open his mouth and groan with pain before everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

Steve listened anxiously as Natasha attempted to revive Bucky. He’d heard the crash, not knowing what had caused it until he heard Natasha’s panicked voice over the phone. He was praying Bucky would be alright- after all it was his fault for calling Bucky and teasing him. He honestly didn’t mean for this to happen. He thought it was a harmless prank, leading Bucky to believe he was using his own phone. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Steve had to smile. Bucky was actually really adorable when he was drunk. Sort of like an overexcited puppy, but way stupider.

He stopped himself thinking about how cute Bucky was to focus on the situation at hand. Natasha seemed to be rousing Bucky, finally. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Steve scrubbed a hand down his face and contemplated whether it was worth making the journey to see Bucky. Nat seemed to have it covered, but Steve wasn’t really in a position to think logically. He knew him and Bucky were nothing more than friends, but he felt so protective of the other man. It clouded his judgement enough to make him believe going to see Bucky was a fantastic idea.

It wasn’t until he was walking out of his apartment building’s lobby that he realised it might be slightly weird to just turn up in the middle of the night because his friend (who was with his closest friends anyway) had knocked himself out. He shook off that thought, distracted because Jesus Christ it was cold. He’d bundled up, but he could still feel the wind rattling his bones. It was gonna be a long walk to the subway. He always moved slower when he was basically freezing to death.

That thought was almost enough to make Steve turn right back round and bury himself in bed. It was only the image of Bucky, passed out with a substantial head wound that made him brave the cold.

The journey wasn’t as bad as Steve feared. The subway was pretty empty for that late at night, just a few homeless people and a couple of students on their way back from a night out. He made it to Bucky’s house quicker than he expected, walking quickly up the stairs to the apartment. He would’ve run, but his asthma was already aggravated from the cold. He didn’t want Natasha and her husband to have two incapacitated people on their hands.

He reached Bucky's apartment and hesitated before knocking twice on the door. A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Clint, looking worried but calmer than Steve. He stood to one side and waved an arm to the living room, not even questioning why Steve was there. Steve nodded at him gratefully and rushed in.

He stopped in the doorway, watching as Natasha splashed cold water on Bucky’s face. He winced at Bucky’s sputtering, but breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Bucky’s eyes opened. They were unfocused, looking far into the distance, and he muttered something that made Natasha tense. She said his name sharply, and Bucky’s eyes cleared, his hands shaking as he looked around the room.

Steve stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt out of place, like he’d intruded on something he shouldn’t have seen. Bucky looked at him, his face showing confusion. Steve opened his mouth to explain why he was there when Bucky turned to Nat. “Who’s that? And why’s he in our flat?” Steve’s stomach dropped. He’d given Bucky amnesia. It was all his fault. He started to panic, his breaths coming shorter. He needed his inhaler. He reached into his pocket and took a puff, breathing deeply and willing himself not to start panicking for real.

Nat looked at Bucky, “James, this is your apartment. I moved out years ago when me and Clint got married. That’s Steve. He’s here to make sure you’re alright. You hit your head pretty hard. So hard you got amnesia, apparently.” Natasha looked like she was trying to hide a smirk, and she glanced at Steve. Her face immediately dropped when she saw the inhaler Steve was gripping tightly. “James. Stop it now.” Bucky looked at her and followed her gaze to where Steve was trying so hard not to cry. Or scream.

“Hey, hey Stevie, it’s okay. I’m joking. It was a terrible joke, I know, I’m so sorry. Jeez, I didn’t mean to scare you. I remember you, I promise. Oh god, I’m sorry.” Bucky had started to ramble, but all Steve could register was that he was joking. Bucky remembered him. Steve tried not to get angry and it was easier than he thought, especially when Bucky looked so desperately sorry. He shrugged and tried to smile, but it felt wobbly. Bucky’s face got even sadder and he smacked himself in the face with his metal hand. Steve made an aborted move towards him but Natasha sighed and grabbed the hand.

“Buck, it’s okay, but please never do that again. You terrified the shit outta me. I thought- I thought you’d lost your memory and it was all my fault. I’m really sorry I made you knock yourself out.” Steve laughed awkwardly, and Bucky smiled so brightly Steve got whiplash. He smiled back awkwardly and stepped into the room, settling comfortably on the sofa. “I am so sorry.” he blurted, pushing his glasses back up his nose and staring at Bucky earnestly.

“Steve, please don’t worry about it. I am so embarrassed by it all that I’d rather just forget it even happened.” Steve winced at the mention of Bucky forgetting, and Bucky looked suitably ashamed, “I can’t believe I was so stupid!” Bucky rubbed his lips nervously and huffed. Steve absolutely did not stare at his mouth. “Besides, it wasn’t your fault at all. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me for my shoddy craftsmanship and big feet.” He gestured at the splintered coffee table. Beside him, Natasha snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay maybe it was a little bit Nat’s fault as well for winding me up when I was inebriated.”

“Oh no, you do not get to blame me. I didn’t even record it, so I’m the least at fault here.” Steve looked at Nat in confusion. How did her lack of recording make her immediately absolved from blame? To his surprise, Bucky conceded her point and glared at his feet, clearly angry at their betrayal.

“I’m still really sorry. How’s your head feel?” Steve had to physically restrain himself from standing over Bucky and cradling his head. Bad enough he’d turned up for no particular reason, he didn’t want to go full creep on the poor guy. 

“Hurts, but I’ve definitely had worse.” Bucky grinned crookedly, flexing his left arm. Steve could feel a smile tugging at his lips. Trust Bucky to crack a joke so soon after being unconscious. “It’s not bleeding, right?” 

Against his better judgement, Steve stood in front of Bucky to prod at his head, “nah, you’re fine. Head’s a bit of a weird shape now though. Like you’ve got a golf ball under your skin.” Bucky snorted and Steve grinned, “I mean, I don’t really know. Your head could’ve been like that before. Haven’t really paid much attention.” Steve let the lie roll off his tongue smoothly. He had been paying way too much attention to Bucky’s head. And his face. And everything else.

“You punk. I’ll have you know everything about me is perfect.” Bucky shot a breathtaking smile at Steve, and he couldn’t help but agree with that statement.

“Sure, jerk. If you wanna keep believing that, be my guest.” he laughed at Bucky’s affronted look and ducked out of the way as Bucky swiped at him. “Hey, none of that, you’ve already knocked yourself out, you don’t need to pass on the experience.” Steve smirked as Bucky glared at him.

“Boys, please behave yourselves” came Natasha’s voice from the floor. She was sat cross legged, watching them with interest. Steve’s cheeks heated with embarrassment at the witness to his inept attempt to flirt. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Steve started it.” Bucky replied petulantly. Sure enough, when Steve looked over at him, he had his arms folded defensively over his chest and a childish pout on his face. It was sort of endearing, despite the fact he’d just thrown Steve to the sharks.

“What’s going on?” Clint walked into the living room with a tray of coffee. He gave the mugs out and flopped next to Natasha on the floor. Bucky immediately started signing to Clint, having passed his mug to Steve. Clint nodded with a barely concealed smile, his eyes flicking to Steve. Wanting to know what Bucky was talking about, Steve watched Bucky’s hands move, wondering if Bucky even remembered that Steve knew ASL.

‘...Oh my god he’s so pretty. Look at him, Clint. His smile makes me want to cry. He’s funny and kind and a bit of a little shit, but he’s so charming. I want…’ Steve turned away, barely hiding the exhilarated smile threatening to take over his face. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and it took all of his strength to not just kiss Bucky’s stupid face. He wanted to play this cool. Or as cool as someone like Steve could get. Bucky didn’t know that Steve knew, and he was going to use this to his full advantage. Yes, he was a little shit, but after the stunt Bucky pulled, he felt it was necessary to have a bit of fun with him. He didn’t want to be rushing into anything, and now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, it made it easier to relax about the whole thing. Steve smiled as he started to formulate a plan. He cleared his throat, but neither Bucky nor Clint heard him. Natasha, however, looked over at him and smirked as she realised what was going on. Steve held a finger to his lips and Natasha winked at him conspiratorially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is so late, I'm so sorry! Holidays are always the most hectic time for me! I have no excuses other than general bad planning. Sorry, hope you like the chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!


	13. Chapter 13

It had been five days since Bucky had seen Steve. Five long, agonizing days. Sure, he’d seen him at the art class after that fateful day that he knocked himself out, but Steve had been acting strange. Bucky couldn’t quite work out what Steve was doing, but he’d be all chatty and friendly one minute, then distant and calculating the next. It was honestly giving Bucky a headache. He hated not knowing where he stood with people, and Steve wasn’t making anything clear. He’d tried talking to Nat about it, but she claimed she didn’t notice anything different about Steve’s behaviour. She’d kept her face carefully blank, so Bucky knew she was hiding something. He was still debating whether it was worth his time trying to crack her.

He was also seriously debating whether taking Soldat for a walk in the blizzard outside was worth it. He’d woken up late, the sun not shining on him as it usually did. When he looked outside, he realised why. The sky was still pitch black, the window partially blocked by thick white snow. It was simultaneously Bucky’s favourite and most hated type of weather. Beautiful, unless you were out in it. It was days like this Bucky was grateful he didn’t have a job. The blizzard had truly come out of nowhere, and subsequently most businesses were closed. The subway was still running, but many trains were cancelled or delayed. Bucky thought of Steve, bundled up in about eighty layers, glasses misted over, pink nose and cheeks, going to work this morning, probably struggling to walk against the strong wind and torrential snow. The image made Bucky panic slightly. Steve could die in this weather. He hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to go to work.

Bucky groaned loudly upon realising that Steve bloody well would put himself in danger to get to work. It was with this thought that Bucky called Soldat to the door, putting his jumper and lead on. He grabbed his own jumper, ski jacket and Doc Martens and bundled himself in a scarf and gloves before locking the door. He was just taking Soldat for a walk. And if he happened to stop at a certain coffee shop to make sure a certain person hadn’t gone to work or, if he had, made it there alive then he was simply being a good friend.

He pushed open the door of the shop, teeth chattering and shoulders tense with the cold, inhaling the warm coffee-and-cinnamon air. It was like breathing for the first time after being locked in a cryo chamber for seventy years. As he looked over at the counter he sighed inwardly. Sure enough, Steve had been stupid enough to venture out in this weather, and he looked like it had hit him hard. His nose was still pink and he kept shivering sporadically, as though he was still fighting off the chill from outside.

Bucky sauntered over to the counter, Soldat trailing behind him, joints stiff from the cold. Bucky had felt bad almost as soon as they’d gotten outside, but Soldat was determined to go for a walk. No matter how many times Bucky had tried to coax him back inside, Soldat had resolutely stayed on the sidewalk. And, Bucky was now realising, it was all worth it to see the expression on Steve’s face as he got caught out. “Save it. Peggy’s already had a go at me. I don’t need it from you as well. No I shouldn’t have come out today. Yes I’m stupid. And yes I have my inhaler. I’m not in the mood.” Steve’s face was adorably disgruntled. Bucky had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

“Hello to you too, Stevie.” Bucky smirked, leaning on the counter, trying and failing to look casual. Soldat rested his paws on the counter and grinned at Steve, his tongue lolling out. Steve rolled his eyes but patted him on the head, wincing when his fingers got wet from the snow in Soldat’s fur. Bucky laughed outright at Steve’s reaction, earning himself a glare and a muttered curse. Bucky blinked. Steve swearing should not be that hot. As it was, he felt an embarrassing shock of want shoot through his body.

Steve snorted, “what can I get for you? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea? A date?” Bucky looked up at Steve, shocked. Did Steve really just ask him out? No, he must’ve misheard. Not wanting to embarrass himself further, he asked for a caramel latte and a bowl of water for Soldat. He thought he saw a flash of disappointment in Steve’s eyes but disregarded it as a trick of the light. He sat down at a table close to the counter so he could continue to watch Steve like a creeper.  
“One caramel latte, a day-old blueberry muffin, and a bowl of water for the cutest patron we’ve had in a while.” Bucky jumped as Peggy set his drink and muffin on the table, bending down to give Soldat a pat on the head and place the bowl in front of him. Soldat licked her hand in thanks and Peggy giggled. Bucky didn’t think it was possible to be upstaged by his dog, but here he was. He pulled his best flirty face at Peggy, hoping to get a bit of attention, but Peggy just rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to try harder than that, James. Besides, I’m not the one you should be impressing. I’m married and you’re gay. Maybe in another lifetime. In this lifetime, I highly recommend the other gorgeous barista here. He’s very interested, I promise you.” Bucky sputtered, feeling extremely wrong-footed. Peggy just winked at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she drifted back to the kitchen, heels clicking on the wooden floor.

Bucky saw her exchange a look with Steve, reminding him eerily of Natasha and Clint and their telepathy. Steve glanced over at him, quickly averting his eyes when he saw Bucky staring, a blush rising at the back of his neck. Bucky watched in fascination, wondering if Steve was one of those people that blushed all over. He wished he could find out, and felt a pang when he realised that was extremely unlikely. He honestly didn’t know how Peggy could say Steve was interested when it was increasingly clear that he wasn’t. Sure, there were times when Bucky thought maybe, but then Steve would do something to diminish that hope, leaving Bucky all kinds of confused. It was seriously giving him whiplash, the amount of times Steve would change his attitude. If Bucky was an optimist (which he most definitely wasn’t) he would say Steve was trying to send him mixed signals and playing hard to get. But, Bucky hadn’t gone through three tours in Afghanistan, lost an arm and all his friends to suddenly become an optimist. He’d been dealt far too much shit in his life to even consider the universe was on his side. It was a shit attitude, but he felt it was warranted.

“You alright, there, Buck?” Steve’s voice carried over to his table, and Bucky jolted out of his spiral. He looked up to see Steve watching him with concern, which meant Bucky’s face must be doing something spectacularly embarrassing. Steve gave him a tentative smile, and called to Peggy he was taking his break. Bucky hastily moved his scarf and gloves where they were piled on the chair opposite him so Steve could take the seat. “I’m gonna get myself a hot chocolate, you want one?” Bucky nodded, smiling when Steve gave him a mock salute. Bucky watched as Steve expertly made the drinks, carrying them over carefully and placing them on the table. Bucky quickly downed his now lukewarm coffee, and held the chocolate towards his face, revelling in the sweet scented steam coming from the cup.

Steve was watching him with an odd expression on his face. “What?” Bucky tried not to get defensive, he really did. But Steve was watching him like that, and Bucky didn’t want to deal with these kind of emotions this early in the morning (shut up, 2pm is definitely early morning). “I got something on my face?” He didn’t know why he was deliberately acting so oblivious, but this was something real, and scary, and damn you, Peggy, this was all your fault! She’d planted the possibility in Bucky’s head and now he was desperately trying to make it a real thing. Seeing expressions that meant something different to what he (so badly) wanted them to mean.

Once again, Steve brought him back to reality, this time with a light touch to his arm. He was looking really concerned now, brow furrowing with a little wrinkle in his forehead. Bucky wanted to smooth it out with his thumb, but he valiantly refrained. It was then that he realised his fists were clenched tightly on the table, metal arm whirring with the strain he was putting on it. He relaxed his muscles and tried for a tentative smile in Steve’s direction, hoping he looked reassuring instead of terrified. He must not have succeeded, judging by the way Steve’s face crumpled even more. “What’s wrong? You don’t have to tell me, but just know I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” Bucky looked at Steve, at his honest, open expression, marred with such overwhelming concern Bucky felt dizzy with it. He wanted to tell Steve, he really did, but he was terrified. What if Steve didn’t like him back? Or even worse, what if he did? What if Steve did like him, but then Bucky did something to screw it up? He had nightmares more nights than not, and such crippling depression it was a wonder he could function most days. Bucky didn’t want Steve to realise this a few months down the line and break if off after Bucky had allowed his feelings to develop. It would probably break him into a million little pieces, and no amount of Stark Tech could put him back together again. He opened his mouth, ready to explain it all, but what actually came out surprised them both.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter at the end. Please read before proceeding, just in case anything is triggering for anyone. I tried to cover everything in this chapter but please let me know if I've missed anything! Thank you :)

“I lost my arm to an IED. It killed my unit.” Steve looked at Bucky, shocked. Bucky was staring at his metal arm, his face screwed up with pain. Steve wanted to reach out and comfort him, but Bucky looked like he needed to say this without interruptions. “When I came to in the hospital, I was told by the doctors I was lucky to have survived. Lucky all I lost was my arm. I don’t know if they even realised what they were saying. I’m not lucky. I lost everything in that explosion. My unit… I was a Sergeant. They were my men, and I led them straight into the bomb. I knew something was wrong, but I did nothing. Ignored my instincts, and they paid the price for my stupid mistake. Not a day goes by that I don’t think I should’ve been the one to die.” 

Steve made a wounded noise and Bucky faced him, but his eyes went straight through him. Steve could see he was somewhere else, reliving what was probably one of the worst days of his life. “I get nightmares, nearly every night. All I can hear is the screams of my men around me, and I can’t do anything to help them. When I came back, my friends all abandoned me. My ex told me I was too damaged to bother with and I believed him. I believed that it was my penance for surviving when nearly everyone I loved had gone. Natasha and Clint were the only ones who stayed. They helped me through the worst of my depression, but I’m still not okay. I still blame myself. I still believe I’m too damaged for anyone to bother with.” At this, Steve did reach out and wrap his fingers around Bucky’s wrist, thumb rubbing along his arm. Bucky smiled, small and painful, and Steve felt the familiar anger rise in him. He wanted to fight whoever had made Bucky look like this. He wanted to tell Bucky this, but he knew it would probably have the opposite effect. Bucky didn’t need anyone fighting his battles. Steve had promised he’d listen and he kept his promises. He squeezed Bucky’s arm, silently asking him to continue if he wanted.

“My family tried to be supportive, but I shut them out for a long time. They kept trying to talk to me about it when all I wanted to do was forget. I’m not proud of the way I coped for the first few months after coming back. There was a lot of self-destruction, my attempt to clear my conscience. I went way off the rails, and it’s only because of Nat and Clint that I managed to come back from it. It was Natasha who pushed for me to go to therapy, and Clint who pushed me to get Soldat. I knew they were just trying to help, and I owed them my life, so I agreed. That was eight months ago. I got my apartment six months ago, after my therapist suggested I try to become more independent. That was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do since coming back. Leaving Nat and Clint’s place made me realise how much I’d come to depend on them, and I knew back then it wasn’t healthy. Realising it didn’t make it any easier.” Steve watched as Bucky took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next. “A month after I moved out of their apartment, I tried to kill myself.” Steve sucked in a shocked breath, causing him to choke slightly on air. Bucky looked at him with concern, finally coming back to himself. Steve shook his head, pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and taking a puff. Of course he’d interrupt Bucky with his stupidly weak lungs when he was trying to open up.

“You okay Stevie? Shit, I’m sorry. That was a lot to unload, huh?” Bucky blushed, grimacing when he realised what he’d just revealed to Steve. There was a brief flash of panic in his eyes that Steve was desperate to extinguish.

“I was really sick as a kid.” Steve offered quietly, “some days the doctors weren’t sure if I was going to survive the night. I have a shitty immune system, and my asthma didn’t help things. I got pneumonia every winter without fail, sometimes in the summer as well, and it made my mother sick with worry. She was working two jobs to pay for my never-ending medical bills, and it made me feel so guilty every time she’d come home looking like death warmed up.” Steve paused, knowing what he was going to say next was going to be difficult, “I was twelve when she died. It was cancer. Her body was too weak and overworked to fight it off, and I blame myself for that every day. The guilt alone almost killed me, but I knew I had to carry on fighting, or her death would’ve been for nothing. She did not die for me to just give up. I refuse to give up because of that.” Bucky was looking at Steve with what looked like awe, and it made Steve blush brilliantly. He looked down at his mug, swirling the contents around absentmindedly. “Most days it’s easy to carry on going, but I get those days when it’s difficult to get out of bed. Something so small could remind me of her and I’d stop trying for a moment. Stop trying to move forward, and just revel in the past, remembering her. I used to think that made me weak, but I know now it just makes me who I am. I still miss her like crazy.

“Grief doesn’t have a time limit. You can miss people your whole life and it might not ever get easier. But you have to keep on going.” Steve blinked against the tears furiously, not looking up at Bucky when he sniffed embarrassingly. This time, Bucky reached out to Steve, placing his metal hand over Steve’s carefully. Steve smiled at him gratefully, surprised to see tears glistening in Bucky’s eyes as well.

“Steve, I have to tell you something. And it’s not gonna be easy for me to say, but please bear with me.” Bucky looked extremely uncomfortable. Steve realised with a jolt Bucky was about to admit his feelings for Steve. It made him feel terribly guilty for the way he’d been messing with Bucky. He’d only wanted to tease him a bit, playing hard to get as revenge for the stunt Bucky had pulled. But this was before Bucky had just opened up about his past, trusting Steve so readily. 

Steve couldn’t face this now, not when he was so overwhelmed with guilt. He took the cowards way out. “Bucky I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work. My break’s over. Uh, are you free tonight? We can talk then, if that’s okay?” Bucky looked so crestfallen Steve wanted to kick himself.

“Yeah that...that’s fine. I’ll text you later. Thanks for the drinks and the chat.” Bucky pushed his chair away from the table, beginning to redress himself for the weather outside. Steve tried for a smile, but was certain it looked more like a grimace, and Bucky’s face dropped considerably more. Steve hated himself so much in that moment. He walked backwards towards the counter, waving at Bucky hesitantly, promising to call him when his shift was over.

When he got into the kitchen, he banged his head against the wall and groaned, ignoring Peggy’s concerned face. He was such a fucking idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today you lucky ducks. Consider it my apology for being so late with my updates. I'm playing catch up with myself at the moment, so the updates should be quicker in the future.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS: Mentions of attempted suicide in the past, self-destructive behaviour, non-graphic descriptions of violence and injury, mentions of death and survivors' guilt from both Bucky and Steve. Mentions of illnesses and cancer. If I have missed anything please let me know in the comments. THERE IS A LOT OF ANGST. Bucky goes to a dark place in this chapter, so please proceed with caution. I'm sorry for this, but it needed to be told.  
> Steve is an idiot, but we all knew that.


	15. Chapter 15

Bucky was unable to get out of bed. He’d walked home on autopilot, Soldat sensing his distress and remaining mercifully silent. He even tried following Bucky into his bedroom to cuddle with him. He supposed that’s what service dogs were for. He knew Soldat was trying to be comforting, but he just wanted to be alone. He’d scared Steve off, probably for real this time. He recognised a brush off when he saw it, and Steve’s sudden departure left a sick feeling in the pit of Bucky’s stomach.

Why did he think it was a good idea to just unload like that? He hated himself so much. It wasn’t fair on Steve, especially in his place of work, and now he’d ruined any chance of being with the guy. It was so typical of him to do this. Steve was even starting to flirt with him. He groaned again, burying further into his duvet, pulling the blankets over his head in defeat. Soldat whined outside his door, claws scratching against the wood. Bucky felt a pang of guilt as he listened to his dog. He was so toxic he couldn’t even keep his dog happy. What chance did he have with other humans?

He cursed Natasha for ever suggesting the art class. It would’ve been better for everyone if he never left the house. Then the only person he’d be hurting is himself. How unselfish of him. It was far too easy to blame all this on Natasha, so Bucky allowed himself to do just that for a few minutes. It didn’t really make him feel better. He rolled onto his back and faced the ceiling, hoping to find some answers in the off-white plaster.

After staring at his ceiling for what felt like hours, he was startled out of his reverie by his phone ringing. It was Nat’s ringtone, so Bucky knew he had to answer it. Well, he didn’t, but he would if he wanted to avoid death. For the first time in a long time, Bucky considered whether that would be a viable option. Ignoring the phone and hoping Natasha would kill him so he didn’t have to face his shitstorm of a life. He decided that it probably wasn’t worth it. Natasha would just find a way to bring him back and kill him again for even considering it. He sat up, rubbing his face tiredly, feeling the sticky residue of dried tears on his cheeks. Huh. When had he started crying? Feeling very much like he shouldn’t shrug something like this off and doing it anyway, Bucky picked his phone up and pressed it to his ear, grumbling a hello.

“James? Where are you?” Natasha’s voice sounded off, and if Bucky hadn’t known her as long as he had, he’d say she was crying, “Steve texted when you didn’t answer your door or phone. Are you okay?”

Steve had called? Bucky didn’t remember that. He pulled the phone from his ear, feeling disorientated. He could still hear Natasha’s voice in his ear, talking to him levelly, but he recognised the underlying frustration at him. He didn’t want to make her angry too. Bad enough he’d lost one friend, there was no reason to lose another. “What do you want Nat? I’m at home, I’m safe, no plans to change that right now. Is that enough to reassure you?” Bucky didn’t know why he was behaving like this, but he really didn’t need Natasha’s sympathy or empty reassurances right now.

“No, James, didn’t you hear what I just said? Steve’s looking for you, please call him. I know what happened, but please don’t pull the same shit you always do. Answer the phone when he calls you, talk to him like an Adult,” Bucky could literally hear the capitalisation, “and then call me when you’re done, I need to know what’s happening.” Nat hung up without ceremony, leaving Bucky reeling from the sudden silence. He glared at his phone, hoping that it would somehow reach Natasha.

Bucky was a fully-grown, reasonably well adjusted adult. This is why he absolutely did not shriek and throw his phone down onto his bed when it started ringing loudly, the horrifically upbeat notes of Cotton-Eyed Joe blasting from the speaker. Fucking Clint. This was not the first time he’d changed his ringtone, and Bucky didn’t for a second believe it was the last. The only ringtone he didn’t dare mess with was Natasha’s, and that had more to do with her threats than Bucky’s. He cautiously picked his phone back up and peered at the screen. Steve. Fuck.

“Hello?” Bucky winced at how raw his voice sounded. There was absolutely no way Steve wouldn’t know he’d been crying. Hopefully, he’d be courteous enough to ignore it.

“Bucky! Oh thank god, I was getting so worried. I wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn’t mean to leave you after you said all that. I really did have to get back to work. It didn’t occur to me what that must’ve looked like until afterwards, but I promise you nothing you said could change how I feel about you. You’re amazing, Buck.” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was sure (like 80%) that Natasha had phoned Steve and told him to say this, if only to stop Bucky overreacting like he had been. The other, more logical 20% was telling him Steve meant what he was saying. He elected to listen to that part of himself (for once) because it meant he got what he wanted. Steve was continuing to chatter in Bucky’s ear, apologising for his behaviour.

“Steve?” Steve trailed off, an expectant silence replacing his apologies, “Listen, can we do this face to face? I need to see you.” Bucky’s voice still sounded rough as fuck, but he ignored it, “if you’re busy or whatever, don’t worry about it. I was thinking we could talk? Maybe order pizza or something.” He kept his tone light, trying not to show Steve how desperately he wanted to see him.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that sounds good. I can be at yours in twenty?”

Bucky nodded, then slapped himself mentally. “See you in twenty.”

“See you soon Bucky.”

As soon as the phone hung up, Bucky started to panic. Steve was going to be there in twenty minutes. Bucky looked like shit. Actual, literal shit. His eyes were red, his cheeks were tacky and his hair...well the less said about that, the better. He needed a shower, like, an hour ago. He sighed, realising he’d brought this on himself. He hoped the panic about how he looked would distract him from the dread threatening to overtake him at the prospect of Steve’s arrival.

While he was combing his wet hair into something that vaguely looked like style, he tried his hardest to not think about the conversation he was going to have with Steve. Of course, trying not to think about something is a surefire way to think about it in excruciating detail. What the hell was he going to say? Sure, Steve had apologised and reassured Bucky it wasn’t him, but Bucky had years blaming himself for other people’s opinions. Even before the accident, he’d been a people pleaser. He tried to change himself to fit other people’s perceptions of him, and it was slowly killing him, even then.

He shook his head as he pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, choosing comfort over looking good. His arm was on full display underneath his white t-shirt. He knew he’d done that to serve as a reminder to Steve about how damaged Bucky was. He wanted to go into this completely open. No hiding anything. The thought of that was enough to terrify anyone, but Bucky knew this was something he needed to do if he wanted to keep Steve. And he did want to keep him. He just hoped Steve wanted to keep him too.

He was just starting to make himself some coffee when the doorbell rang. He placed the pot on the kitchen table and walked slowly towards the door, trepidation building inside of him. He breathed out slowly, reminding himself it was just Steve. A wave of deja vu swept over him as he realised this was almost exactly the same situation as last week (god, was it only last week? So much had changed) except this time they were going to be having an actual Adult conversation instead of just doing art. His nervousness was warranted. Totally warranted. The thought didn’t help at all, and he took one more breath before opening the door.  
Steve looked like Bucky felt. His eyes were red behind his glasses, and he was literally drooping. His entire being screamed remorse, so loudly that Bucky was temporarily deafened. It took him a few seconds to stop staring at Steve and step to one side, inviting him in. The blizzard had subsided somewhat, but Steve was still bundled up in about eighty layers, which he immediately began disposing of as soon as he stepped over the threshold.

He hadn’t looked up at him. Steve was steadfastly looking at the ground, and it was driving Bucky crazy. He needed Steve to look at him, even just to gauge his reaction to what had happened. He cleared his throat, and rejoiced when Steve visibly jumped, looking up at him guiltily. Bucky knew how to play this, “I was gonna make some coffee, you want any?” he was striving for casual, but even he knew he’d missed the mark by about a mile.

“Coffee sounds good, thanks Buck.” Steve grinned, too tight to be completely genuine, but Bucky considered it a win. He also ignored the pleasure elicited from hearing the nickname only Steve used.

“Right. Okay, I’ll just, uh… Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a sec.” He entered the kitchen, bracing his hands on the table as he leaned forward and tried not to scream. It had never been this awkward between him and Steve. Granted, they hadn’t known each other all that long, but it was never like this in the time they had known each other. He had well and truly screwed this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking this will be about 20 chapters long? The end is in sight, I promise. They just have to talk like grown ups first. (I know it's like pulling teeth, expecting these two to communicate effectively in any universe, but oh well).
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, and your patience with me while I try to navigate writing a multi-chaptered fic for the first time. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far, and will continue to!
> 
> Thank you again! :)


	16. Chapter 16

Steve sat on the sofa uncomfortably. He could hear Bucky pottering around in the kitchen, clearly just as awkward as Steve was. Steve reflected on every moment in his life that led to this point in time, and wondered if he’d made some mistakes. Well, of course he had, he’d hurt Bucky. That was a pretty big mistake. One of the worst Steve had made. And he didn’t really know how to fix it. He knew how he’d like to fix it (with kisses and touching) but he wasn’t sure if that would be welcomed now.

The longer he waited for Bucky, the more agitated he got. What was taking him so long? He was tempted to go into the kitchen and see for himself, but felt that would be crossing a line. He’d done enough damage to Bucky’s trust in him, so he contented himself with stroking gently down Soldat’s back. The dog really was soft, and the familiar rhythm was enough to quell most of Steve’s discomfort. This was helped even more when Soldat climbed onto the sofa next to him and rested his head in Steve’s lap, whining for more attention.

“He’s good, ain’t he?” Steve jumped at the sound of Bucky’s voice, so engrossed in petting Soldat. He’d all but forgotten why he was there, and it all came rushing back with alarming clarity when Bucky spoke. He walked over to Steve, handing him a mug, careful not to spill any on Soldat. Steve accepted the mug with a grateful sigh, letting the steam envelop his face and mist his glasses. He heard a snort, but when he looked up, his vision was obscured. Bucky was just a blur. A beautiful blur, but maybe Steve was biased. In any case, talking to BlurBucky was a lot easier than talking to regular Bucky. He took a deep breath.

“Buck. I’m really sorry f-”

“Steve, no, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have unloaded all that on you, especially when you were at work. I know I’m fucked up, and it was way out of line for me to expect you could handle something like that. It’s okay if you can’t handle it, you wouldn’t be the first person not to. I’m just really sorry for putting you through all that when you weren’t expecting it and I-”

“I know ASL!” Steve blurted. It was clear Bucky was starting to spiral, and Steve couldn’t bear the thought of Bucky thinking Steve didn’t want him anymore. Of course he did.

“I-What?” Bucky sounded thrown off by the non sequitur.

He knew he’d have to look Bucky in the eyes when he explained what it meant, so he wedged his mug between his thighs and took his glasses off. Bucky remained silent while Steve cleaned them thoroughly but opened his mouth when Steve placed them back on his nose. “Please, wait. I know ASL, Bucky. I saw what you were saying to Clint about me. I was going to bring it up but I guess I was still slightly pissed about the stunt you had pulled earlier.” He paused, watching as Bucky remembered that day. He could see the moment Bucky realised what he’d said to Clint, as all the blood drained from his face. “I thought it would be fun to mess with you a bit. I now realise that was an insanely stupid thing to do and I’m so sorry. The reason I left earlier was because I felt so guilty for doing it, when you had placed your trust in me. I have no excuses for why I did it, and I am so sorry.” Steve was aware he was pleading with Bucky, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much.

“Steve.” He ran his hands through his hair, silver fingers glinting in the black. “Fuck, you saw all that?” Bucky’s face had started to gain some colour, but he still looked shaken. Steve swallowed nervously.

“Yeah, uh, obviously I didn’t mean to, but it was hard to ignore. You were very…” Steve flapped his hands enthusiastically, trying to explain Bucky’s sign language. Bucky’s face darkened and he closed his eyes briefly.

“Shit. Any chance you could forget I said that and we can go back to being friends?” Steve blinked at Bucky, confused. Did Bucky really mean that?

“Actually, um, I was kinda hoping to take you out. On a date. With me.” Steve cursed as he stuttered through the sentence. Smooth, Rogers, really.

It was definitely worth all this embarrassment to see Bucky’s face like that. It was like looking into the sun. Steve grinned back, pushing his glasses up his nose.  
“Yeah, sure. That would be nice.” Steve really wanted to kiss Bucky’s stupid pink face. He looked both embarrassed and elated, his eyes glinting. It took all of Steve’s self control not to just bite Bucky’s red lips.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Bucky chuckled, “this feels awkward now, huh?” Steve nodded emphatically, glad Bucky had noticed it too. 

“I’m just gonna go. Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?” At Bucky’s confused frown Steve clarified, “for our art class? Don’t think just because we’re going on a date you can get out of painting with me. You still need to learn.” Bucky huffed a laugh and Steve smirked at him, standing and stretching his arms. He started the process of bundling himself back up, glancing at Bucky one last time before leaving the apartment.

It wasn’t until he was unlocking his door that he realised he had a date. With Bucky. He couldn’t stop the grin overtaking his face as he reflected on how well that had gone. He certainly wasn’t expecting himself to be so brave, but he knew he couldn’t lose Bucky. The man was far too important for that. He spent a few seconds making coffee, basking in the knowledge of his date. When he sat down, the full force of the situation hit him. What the hell was he gonna wear? Where were they gonna go? He knew Bucky wouldn’t mind what they did, but he still felt nervous. This was their first date- he wanted it to be special.

He decided to watch a space documentary to take his mind off the impending date, and that’s when inspiration strikes. He grins when he realises the perfect place to take Bucky on a date. Grabbing his laptop, he starts to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today. But now they've finally got their heads out of their asses, so I hope you can forgive me. I'm excited for their date, as it's where I went on a first date once and I loved it so much.
> 
> The updates are going to be coming quicker from now, I promise (I know I've said that before, but this time is for real).
> 
> Enjoy!


	17. Chapter 17

It was Wednesday. Wednesday meant Bucky was going to see Steve again. It had been less than twenty four hours since they’d agreed to a date and Bucky was already ridiculously excited. He had been waiting for what seemed like months to ask Steve out and the guy had beaten him to the punch. Not that he was pissed off or anything. He knew undoubtedly they’d still be skirting around each other if Steve hadn’t taken the initiative. He also realised he’d have to be way more careful about using sign language in front of Steve in the future.

For the rest of the day, Bucky was an anxious mess. He couldn’t sit still, waiting for Steve to come over. He even took Soldat on a ridiculously long walk, purposely not going past a certain coffee shop. He didn’t want to seem like a creepy stalker or anything. He’d have to wait until tonight to fawn over Steve. What was even better was he was allowed now. He desperately hoped he could kiss Steve later. He’d dreamed about those lips since he first laid eyes on them. Bucky shook himself as he realised he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Way to not be stalkerish, Barnes.

Pretty soon, it was time to take Soldat home and get a shower. Bucky was determined to make a good impression, worried Steve might change his mind if Bucky looked like shit. He was fully aware he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. Steve made him feel ridiculous. It was a problem, really. He jumped in the shower, scrubbing at his hair, making sure he cleaned his prosthetic as well. It was bordering on slightly obsessive, the way he was meticulously cleaning himself. After 45 minutes in the shower, he realised maybe he should call Natasha. He never recognised an anxiety attack until it was almost too late. He’d let himself get more worked up without realising what he was doing.

Natasha, of course, told him she’d come round immediately. She talked to him soothingly on the phone, and he could hear the background noises change as she ran out of her apartment and into a taxi, “I’ll be ten minutes. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Bucky tried to breathe slowly through his nose, fighting off the growing panic. It was a lot more difficult than he anticipated. He hoped Nat would hurry up. He needed someone to talk him down. Rationally, he knew he had nothing to worry about. This was Steve. He’d heard the worst of Bucky’s life and still decided to stick around.

When Natasha got to his apartment, Bucky had managed to get his breathing under control. He was sitting wrapped in a towel on the sofa, tears still silently falling down his cheeks. Natasha sighed softly, sitting next to him and gathering him up in her arms. It was a testament to their friendship that Bucky wasn’t bothered by his nakedness and all but climbed onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, shushing him gently.

After a while, the tears stopped, and Bucky moved slightly away from Natasha, looking at the ground with shame. “Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked him softly, eyes filled with concern.

Bucky shook his head, then took a deep breath, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Nat. Steve is perfect, and he likes me, but I can’t seem to get my head around it. I don’t think I deserve him, still. I know it’s all fucked and I have major trust issues, but-” Bucky stopped when he heard the knock at the door. Shit. Steve was here. Bucky jumped off the sofa and looked at Natasha with alarm. She rolled her eyes slightly and shoved him towards his bedroom.

“Go get dressed, I’ll answer the door. I’m sure Steve won’t mind waiting for a minute. Do you want a coffee?” Bucky nodded and rushed to his bedroom, hearing Natasha greet Steve.

Once he’d dressed and removed any evidence of crying from his face, he felt a lot better. His newfound calmness immediately evaporated when he saw Steve. God, but he looked so beautiful. He had an oversized sweater on, the neck too big and exposing his sharp collarbones. Bucky was once again surprised he hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Or at least popped a very embarrassing boner. Those skinny jeans were doing a lot for Bucky, and it was even better because he was allowed to look.

He stuttered through a greeting, cursing himself internally. He looked at Natasha for help and realised she was going to be worse than useless. A little known fact about Natasha was that she thrived on Bucky’s awkwardness. If she wasn’t such a good and supportive friend (and didn’t know six ways to kill him with her little finger) Bucky would’ve ditched her long ago. He was on his own with this. Thankfully, Steve seemed just as awkward as Bucky, if not more. Despite how devastating his smile was, Bucky could see the underlying tension, and it strangely made him relax.

“James, I’m going now. I trust you have everything under control?” Bucky looked at Nat, feeling cold fear wash over him. He nodded anyway, not wanting to keep Natasha from her plans.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks Nat. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky knew Natasha could see he still wasn’t alright, but she didn’t say anything, thank god.

The silence following Natasha’s exit was uncomfortable. Bucky focused on sipping the coffee in his hand and not looking at Steve. He knew agreeing to a date was a monumentally stupid idea. It just made everything really awkward between them.

Steve cleared his throat, and Bucky looked over to see him hunched into himself, playing with his coffee cup nervously. A wave of guilt hit him as he realised he’d just completely ignored Steve for the better part of twenty minutes. He opened his mouth to apologise but Steve beat him to it. “I guess I should start by saying sorry. Uh, I’m not very good at this whole” he waved his arm, “dating thing. God, I’m making it so awkward. I really like you, Buck.”

Bucky grinned. “You like me, huh? Well that’s just fantastic, because I actually like you too. I don’t agree to dates with just anyone, you know.” Somehow, Steve’s blatant awkwardness gave Bucky the confidence to up his game. “To be honest Steve, I was shitting myself at the thought of you coming round. I haven’t dated since Br-” He stopped, realising what he was about to say, “well for a very long time, and I’m super nervous. But I just realised we don’t have to be nervous. We get on great, yeah?” Steve nodded, “so I think we should just go into the kitchen, you can teach me some art and then we can maybe order dinner and watch some TV. Sound good?”

Steve’s relieved smile was like the sun coming out. Bucky grinned back and they migrated to the kitchen, Steve explaining what they were going to be doing tonight as he got his sketchbooks out. Bucky listened to him with a bit of apprehension. Steve wanted them to draw each other to help Bucky with drawing people. It was a really daunting task, especially as Steve was a professional. He hoped he didn’t accidentally offend Steve with his drawing. He bit his lip and told Steve not to move.

After four screwed up attempts and a lot of coffee, Bucky finally managed to draw something that looked vaguely like Steve. At least it wasn’t a stick figure, which was a relief. He was still worried about Steve’s reaction, but decided to play it off as a joke if Steve got too offended.

Steve actually loved his drawing. He assured Bucky a few times that he wasn’t saying he liked it out of pity or anything. He genuinely liked it. It made Bucky feel a lot better about his abysmal art skills. This confidence boost lasted until Steve showed his drawing. Bucky felt like he’d been punched in the chest. All the air in his lungs left with a whooshing sound as he gazed at the likeness. It was beautiful. Steve had somehow managed to capture his best features while still keeping his flaws on display. His arm made him look powerful, which wasn’t something he’d ever thought about his disability before. He honestly never realised he could look so peaceful, but apparently that’s how Steve saw him. Bucky was honestly speechless. He looked up at Steve, focusing on blue eyes wide with nerves behind his glasses. It could've been his imagination, but he swore his eyes flickered down to his lips. He licked them on instinct and heard an almost silent inhale from Steve.

A wave of irrational panic swept over Bucky and he jumped up from his seat. “Right. I'm starving. What do you fancy Steve?” he cursed internally, hating himself when Steve's face dropped. Why was he so awkward? He closed his eyes, only opening them when he heard Steve clear his throat softly.

All he could see was golden hair. Steve had stood up at some point, and now he was really close to Bucky. His head barely brushed the bottom of Bucky's chin and Bucky struggled to not find that absolutely adorable. He could feel Steve's warm breath on his neck. He looked down slightly and let out a strangled gasp. Steve was beautiful up close. Like seriously gorgeous. His eyes looked massive behind his glasses, and Bucky thought he could drown in the blue. Steve had freckles. Honest to god freckles on his nose, which was crooked from a break earlier in his life. This slight imperfection made him all the more beautiful. Bucky focused on his lips and realised they were moving. Steve was talking to him.

“Sorry, what was that? I was a bit lost.” In your eyes, Bucky didn't add. He chuckled to hide his embarrassment at the thought and Steve smiled back.

“I said, did you wanna get pizza? I’m getting kinda hungry too, now that you mention it. Hey, do you have Netflix?” Bucky grinned down at Steve and nodded, “I know how much you like chick flicks so I suppose we can watch one of them.” Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. Steve grinned easily, “I know I'm extremely generous. You don't have to tell me.”

They decided to split a pepperoni pizza and Bucky grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. They got themselves comfortable on the sofa, sitting closer than was probably necessary but neither of them mentioned it. The pizza was hot and the beers were cold and Bucky was content. They agreed on a film and settled in to watch.

It was a few hours and two films later that Steve dropped off. Bucky only realised when he felt Steve's head on his shoulder and heard his soft snores. He decided against waking him and shifted carefully to get the blanket behind them. After covering them both up, he switched the tv off and shuffled down the sofa, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, falling asleep almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I'm so sorry for the lateness of this. I need to stop doing this. I thought I was on top of it but life kicked me in the face and all I can do is apologise. So I'm really sorry.
> 
> Hope you like it, it took me long enough! :(


	18. Chapter 18

Steve woke with a start. His back ached from sleeping on the sofa all night, and he was acutely aware of how full his bladder was. He shifted to relieve the pressure, and realised he was laying on someone. He hoped more than anything that someone was Bucky. Things were about to get extremely awkward if not. He peered up, squinting ineffectually before realising he didn’t have his glasses on. The someone he was laying on was a pink and black blur, but the glint of silver told him it was definitely Bucky.

“Bucky? Hey, I’ve got work in an hour. Do you know where my glasses are?” Steve nudged Bucky’s shoulder (or what he thought was his shoulder) and the other man snorted awake, looking at Steve blearily.

“Wha-?” Steve squinted at Bucky’s face, trying to decipher his expression. “Oh, yeah, your glasses. They’re right here, gimme a sec.” Steve tried (and failed) to not look at the strip of skin exposed when Bucky stretched his arms above his head. He could feel his cheeks heat up and prayed Bucky didn’t notice.

Once his glasses were safely on his face, he almost wished Bucky was still a blurry figure. He’d forgotten how devastating he was. Even more now, with his droopy eyes and sleep mussed hair. Bucky grinned sleepily at him, his entire face lighting up, and Steve was helpless to smile back. It was a few minutes of smiling dopily at each other before Bucky seemed to mentally shake himself. “You want breakfast before work? I think I have eggs and bacon? And coffee of course, although I doubt it’s as good as anything you’ve got at the shop.” Bucky rubbed his lips self-consciously, something Steve found ridiculously endearing each time he did it.

“That sounds great, thank you. Do you think there’s any chance I could use your shower? I mean, I don’t have any clothes, but I can just put these back on. I doubt you’d have anything that would fit me.”

“Yeah of course you can. There’s a pack of spare toothbrushes under the sink, help yourself. I’ll just grab you a towel.” Bucky jostled Steve slightly as he stood up, making Steve even more aware of how desperately he needed to use the bathroom. “If you jump in the shower, I’ll get started on breakfast and feed Soldat. God knows that dog’s probably been waiting forever, impatient bastard. I’m surprised he didn’t wake us. I might even have a shirt you can wear. It might be a bit baggy, but hopefully it’ll be okay?” Bucky looked at Steve hopefully, and Steve was stunned to realise Bucky wanted Steve to wear his shirt. Like they were dating.

“Uh sure, yeah. I mean if you don’t mind?” Steve followed Bucky towards the bathroom, waiting while Bucky got him a towel and showed him how to use the shower. Pretty soon he was standing under the hot spray, letting the pressure hammer on his stiff joints. He hated sleeping on the sofa as it always fucked his back up. He used Bucky’s shampoo and body wash, revelling in the scent of him before he realised how creepy he was actually being.

He entered the kitchen, hair still wet and wearing a black t-shirt of Bucky’s that basically drowned him, savouring the scent of coffee and bacon. He blinked, looking at Bucky’s broad shoulders as he stood in front of the stove. He turned, and Steve choked back a laugh. Bucky was wearing a floral pink apron, complete with frills and cursive script that read, ‘Stand aside, I’m shittin’ miracles’. Bucky grinned at him and his cheeks turned slightly pink, “yeah, laugh it up, punk. I’ll have you know it was a gift from my grandmother.”

“Well, in that case…” Steve raised an eyebrow, pleased to see Bucky’s cheeks darken further. He wasn’t used to being the one who flustered other people, and it was a nice change of pace. Bucky guestered at the coffee pot and Steve nodded gratefully, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a tired huff. This time it was Bucky who looked at him with his eyebrow raised. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. No offence, but you aren’t all that comfortable.” Bucky huffed a disbelieving laugh and shook his head.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more accomodating, your highness. You were the one who fell asleep on me.” Steve shrugged, unapologetic. Bucky brought the plates over to the table, setting one down in front of Steve and sitting opposite him. Steve found he liked this banter between them. It made him more comfortable, knowing Bucky could give as good as he got, bickering like lifelong friends. He ate his (truly heavenly) eggs and bacon with a small content smile on his face, almost wishing he didn’t have to go to work and ruin this perfectly domestic moment. They weren’t even really dating yet, but Steve was reluctant to leave Bucky’s kitchen.

Eventually it became too late for Steve to put off leaving any longer. He was already going to be a few minutes late. It was times like this he was eternally grateful he worked for his best friend. What’s a few minutes when you have gossip about how you spent the night at your crush’s apartment? He left feeling lighter than air, the morning with Bucky lifting his spirits higher than anything had ever done before. Even the bitter cold outside couldn’t dampen his spirits. That probably had something to do with the oversized hoodie Bucky had thrust at him before he left, telling him to try not to freeze to death.

He arrived at work trying desperately to hide the goofy smile on his face, but Peggy was as sharp as ever, “well good morning to you! Where have you been, huh?” Steve ducked into the back room, removing the hoodie and tying his apron on, resolutely not thinking about Bucky’s own apron. Peggy followed him, handing him a cup of coffee, smirking slightly at Steve’s red face.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Pegs. Won’t happen again.” Steve grinned cheekily at Peggy, trying to put off the impending conversation. He really didn’t want to explain where he’d been. It was pointless, especially as Peggy wasn’t stupid. She’d already noticed the hoodie and oversized t-shirt he was wearing. It didn’t take a genius to work it out.

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me where you’ve been, Steve. You’re not ever late. I was worried, you know.” Steve almost fell for the concern in Peggy’s voice. He almost felt bad until he looked at her face. He’d known her long enough to know when she was hiding a smile. She was practised in deception (Steve was pretty sure she’d been a spy at one point) but apparently not when it came to Steve.

“I’m sorry Peggy, I really am. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Steve sighed. Peggy looked positively gleeful, waiting for the moment Steve broke and told her. Steve lamented the fact that he had such manipulative friends, and sighed again. He grinned to himself and looked at Peggy, summoning all of his pitiful acting skills to look suitably chastised. “I was actually at Bucky’s last night. For the art classes I’m giving him? We started watching a movie and I fell asleep. I, uh, stayed at his.”

The reaction Peggy gave was worth all the teasing he was sure to get when she’d recovered. She honest to god shrieked, and thumped him on the arm. Steve rubbed his arm ineffectually, already feeling the bruise. She smirked at him and Steve braced himself for the onslaught. But Peggy simply smiled at him softly and whispered that she was happy for him.

The day dragged, because of Steve’s exhaustion or his eagerness to see Bucky that night, he wasn’t sure. He realised pretty early on the thing between them was more than just a passing fling. Bucky was someone he could see himself grow old with, or at least be with for a long time. But he didn’t want to scare the other man off- it had only been a few weeks. It was just so easy to be with Bucky, whether they were talking or just sitting together. They had no expectations from each other, something that made Steve feel warm inside. It wasn’t often he got that ease with someone and he resolved to keep Bucky around as long as he could. He hoped the date he’d planned helped with that.

As soon as he got home that night he jumped in the shower again, wanting to look as good as possible for the art class tonight. He tried not to look too closely at the reasoning behind this and simply got on with washing the smell of coffee from his body. He also definitely did not wish he was standing in a different shower with someone who will not be named. Not at all.

As the weather had taken a turn for the better, he decided to walk to the art class, bundling himself up in his scarf, coat and Bucky’s hoodie. He’d already decided to wash it before he returned it, so he was just getting a good wear out of it before he did wash it. Steve kept up the litany of reasons for his behaviour all the way to art class, but it did nothing to hide the fact he wanted Bucky. Wanted him in every sense. This was further solidified by the look Bucky gave Steve as he walked through the door. The heat in his gaze intensified when Steve took his coat off to reveal Bucky’s hoodie drowning his skinny frame.

“Hey Buck” Steve grinned at him nervously, wondering what exactly he was doing. Why was he wearing Bucky’s hoodie to an art class? It was going to get ruined!

“Stevie” Bucky breathed back, offering a charming grin that absolutely did not make Steve blush. It was just hot in the room. “You look good. Uh, I mean how are you?” Steve tried not to be charmed by Bucky’s own blush, but it was difficult. He opened his mouth to reply when the teacher walked in, calling for attention. Steve silently cursed his luck and settled in for the lesson.

As soon as the teacher called for the end of the lesson, Steve turned towards Bucky, intending to ask him about their date tomorrow, but he caught a glimpse of Bucky’s work and was distracted, “Wow, Bucky, that’s really good! You’ve really improved!”

“Thanks, I have an excellent teacher.” Steve ducked his head self-consciously, “I mean, she’s just really great.” Steve’s head shot back up to see Bucky grinning at him teasingly and felt embarrassed all over again.

“Well that’s just great, maybe you should ask her out instead.” Steve smiled to let Bucky know he was joking, “I mean, I was getting ready to ask you out tomorrow but I guess it can wait so you can take our teacher out. What’s one night spent together when you can have an eighty year old woman. I bet she’s got some life in her yet.”

“You little shit!” Bucky exclaimed. Probably louder than he intended as a few people looked over to them, Peggy and Natasha included. “Wait were you really gonna ask me out tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah, Buck. We discussed this the other day. It’s still a surprise so you need to be patient. I’ll pick you up at 12, okay?” Steve lost some of his cockiness when he was asking Bucky, but he plowed on regardless. He didn’t run from things like this, especially if it made him uncomfortable. That generally meant it was worth it, in his experience.

“Yeah, 12 sounds great Stevie. Uh, I know it’s a surprise but what should I wear?”

“Oh! Yeah, just something casual. We’ll be walking around a bit so maybe wear comfortable shoes? I don’t know really, I haven’t actually done this before. Jeans, comfortable shoes and preferably a top. But, you know, that’s optional. I’d sure appreciate the view.” Steve winked and delighted in Bucky’s blush.

“Shut up Steve. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Bucky looked hopefully at Steve, picking his bag up and tugging his coat on. Natasha materialised next to him, waiting to leave. Steve nodded and smiled again. To his surprise, Bucky leaned in close and hugged him tightly. “That hoodie looks good on you, you should definitely keep it.” Steve spluttered and blushed, much to the amusement of Bucky, Natasha and Peggy.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky!” Steve squeaked, all but running out the door. Damn, how did Bucky make him so flustered?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. I feel like this should be a permanent fixture at the end of each chapter. I'm in the process of writing the next chapter but I'm not gonna make any promises as writer's block is a very real, very annoying thing. Sorry again.
> 
> Enjoy!


	19. Chapter 19

Steve had said casual, right? So why was Bucky standing in front of his wardrobe looking for the perfect thing to wear? It really shouldn’t be this difficult. Certainly not worth tearing his hair out over, which he was pretty close to. He tried the breathing technique his therapist had recommended. After ten minutes with very little success, he decided the best course of action would be to call Natasha.

“What?” She sounded pissed, not that Bucky could blame her. It was 8am after all.

“What do I wear?” Bucky whined, tugging on his hair desperately.

“Oh for fuck sake Barnes. You woke me up for this?”

“Please Nat. This is important. Much more important than Clint’s beauty sleep.” Natasha sighed, and Bucky knew she was picturing every item of clothing he owned.

“The red henley, your dark blue jeans and the combat boots. And please for the love of God wear your coat.”

“Natasha, you’re a genius. Thank you so much!” Bucky knew he was laying it on thick, but it was vital to his sanity and wellbeing to remain in Nat’s good books. Besides, she really knew what she was talking about. Those jeans made his ass look fantastic.

After a shower, breakfast, a walk with Soldat and three cups of coffee, Bucky was ready to go. He made sure Soldat had enough food and water for while he was gone and then sat on the sofa to wait for Steve. A strange sense of calmness came over him as he realised he’d already done the worst part, which was having the conversation about his past. Steve had seen his arm, heard his story, and still wanted to go on a date with him. It was definitely a huge weight off his chest.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. Despite his aforementioned calmness, his pulse skyrocketed at the sound of Steve’s knocks. Soldat lifted his head interestedly, but laid back down when he realised it was Steve. Bucky didn’t know whether to laugh or take it as a warning sign that Soldat didn’t react to the presence of an almost stranger at his door. Usually he’d be barking all over the place, sometimes growling if the person was perceived to be a bigger threat, like the mailman. He then realised Steve had been around a lot in the past few weeks, so Soldat probably recognised him as a friend. And wasn’t that a comforting thought?

“Oh wow. Hi Bucky.” Bucky turned from looking at Soldat and promptly choked on his spit, greeting dying on his lips. Steve looked… Well he looked amazing.

“Steve” Bucky breathed, then mentally slapped a hand to his forehead, blushing violently. Could he sound anymore like a lovesick idiot? Thankfully, Steve either didn’t notice or was being polite and ignoring Bucky’s fucking embarrassing reaction.

“Ready to go?” Steve grinned at Bucky and he swore his heart stopped for a second.

“Uh sure. You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Steve smirked mischievously and Bucky once again cursed his heart. He was honestly going to die from heart failure at this rate.

“It’s a surprise. Trust me.” And how could Bucky say no to that?

They got on the subway, Bucky still trying to puzzle out where they were going. Steve was giving nothing away, just sitting with that infuriating (and extremely attractive) smirk on his face. It was driving Bucky insane, both with wanting to know where they were going and wanting to kiss Steve senseless.

When they arrive at their stop, Steve grabs Bucky’s hand and pulls him down the street, stopping when they reach the space centre. Bucky was distracted by the warmth of Steve’s hand in his so he didn’t immediately react to the building in front of them. As soon as his head cleared and he realised where they were, his excitement was palpable. He hadn’t been to the space centre in literal years- probably not since he was a kid. He said as much to Steve and revelled in the way Steve’s face lit up.

They stood grinning at each other goofily outside the space centre entrance, until someone bumped into Steve, jostling him forward into Bucky. They were standing chest to chest, and Bucky couldn’t help flicking his eyes down to look at Steve’s lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and Bucky’s breath caught. He copied the movement almost unconsciously, leaning further into Steve’s space, parting his lips in anticipation. They were so close. Apparently they were too close for the people of New York as just as their lips brushed, barely a press of lips, someone slammed into Bucky. His head jolted forward, smacking his chin into Steve’s forehead. They both groaned in pain and Steve chuckled quietly. “New York giveth and New York taketh away.”

“Shall we just go in?” Bucky asked with fond exasperation. The moment had most definitely passed and he was eager to see some cool space shit.

The space centre was fantastic. Bucky couldn’t help how exhilarated he was with everything. He flitted to each exhibit, dragging Steve along with him, chatting at a rapid pace about each cool thing they saw. He spouted random fun facts he knew that weren’t covered on the displays. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him the entire time, and he briefly worried he was boring him with his facts, or embarrassing himself further by being a huge geek about space.

Apparently his worries were unfounded as Steve seemed just as happy looking at Bucky with a fond smile on his face as he was looking at the exhibits. Bucky had the sneaking suspicion Steve had orchestrated this date to watch Bucky in his element. He was well aware he got a bit obsessive with science, but that was something Steve would have to deal with, if Bucky was being honest. He was just a huge nerd.

After the initial excitement had died down for him somewhat, he asked Steve if he wanted to go into the planetarium. Steve readily agreed and they took their seats in the centre of the room. The show was amazing. It was all about dark matter and dark energy and Bucky was enthralled. He learnt a few things he didn’t know, all with the added benefit of being surrounded by literal space. He could tell Steve wasn’t really listening to the voiceover, but he looked equally as amazed at the special effects and the detailing that went into the images surrounding them.

It was a few hours later when Bucky decided he’d had enough of the space centre. Steve suggested they get some food, and Bucky felt terrible he’d kept Steve here for so long without even considering Steve’s need for food. When Bucky got going, very little could stop him, eating included. As soon as Steve mentioned food, Bucky became aware of how hungry he actually was. “Steve I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here for so long. God you must be starving.”

“No it’s okay, Buck. I’ve enjoyed today a lot. But I am getting a bit hungry and I know the perfect place to eat if you’re up for it?” Steve was smiling softly at him and it took everything in Bucky to not sweep him up into a kiss. The only thing stopping him was the fact that Steve was hungry and Bucky couldn’t have that.

“Sure Stevie. Lead the way.” Steve grabbed his hand again as they left the space centre and Bucky felt a swell of butterflies in his chest. He was really falling deep and they hadn’t even kissed yet. This was usually the point in a new relationship that would cause Bucky to panic, but all he was experiencing was a strong feeling of contentment and rightness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writer's block. I'm so sorry.
> 
> Sorry my updates are getting further and further apart. We're in the endgame of the fic now so you won't have to put up with my slow af updates for much longer.
> 
> Enjoy!


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